


Just Come Home~Reddie

by ultra_violett



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Sonia Kaspbrak, Angst with a Happy Ending, But it’s self defense, Child Abuse, Depression, Eddie Kaspbrak likes to write songs, Eddie Kaspbrak runs away, Gay Richie Tozier, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, Homophobia, I swear this book kind of has mixtape vibes but I didn't mean to do that I promise, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, I’m not good at tagging, Like HUGE time skip, Like it's literally so minor and not even real, Like probably my longest book, M/M, Minor/Mentioned Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier, Murder, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Richie Tozier is in denial, Self Harm, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak’s A+ parenting, Suicidal Thoughts, The title is stolen from a song, This is going to be an extremely long book, but also lots of fluff, but honestly it’s not a lot of sexual themes, literally almost everyone is gay, lots and lots of angst, some sexual themes, time skip, which is why i changed it to mature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 48,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultra_violett/pseuds/ultra_violett
Summary: “Eds? What-What happened?” Richie asks as he opens the front door of his house. Eddie’s standing on his doorstep, a backpack slung over his back as well as tear stains littering his cheeks.“I’m leaving, Rich. I can’t stay here. Mom found out. P-Please come with me.” Richie glances at the almost empty house behind him. “I can’t, Eds. My mom-“ Eddie cuts Richie off. “Your mom’s sick. I understand. Then consider this goodbye.”“Goodbye Eds.”And with a final, hurried kiss to the lips, Eddie’s gone, running down the sidewalk and into the night.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	1. If You Want To

**Author's Note:**

> so as said in the tags, this book is going to be extremely long, so if you start, be prepared to be here for the long haul, folks. i’ll try to post once a day so you’re not waiting a year for the end. the title’s from the song Where’s My Love by SYML, which is the song that inspired the story. 
> 
> here’s the playlist to help add to the experience:
> 
> 1.where’s my love-acoustic, SYML  
> 2.lookalike, Conan Gray  
> 3.dirty little secret, The All-American Rejects  
> 4.promises, Beach Bunny  
> 5\. cancer, My Chemical Romance  
> 6.the way i spoke, beabadoobee  
> 7.heather, Conan Gray  
> 8.runaway, AURORA  
> 9.without you, Avicii  
> 10.amnesia, 5 Seconds of Summer

**______**

If you want, you could go ahead and fix my head 

If you want to, only of you want to

Use some pesticides and throw them in my brain

If you want to, only if you want to

**______**

_September 10, 1993_

That was the day everything had started. It was a normal day for the Losers, except Richie noticed Eddie wasn’t at school that day. That was unusual, the hypochondriac would always call Richie to let him know he wouldn’t be at school.

So not seeing him had not only confused the trashmouth, but also upset him. That probably isn’t normal, for someone to get upset over their best friend not coming to school. Maybe a bit of a bummed upset, not a full on depressed mood that weighed down the lanky boy throughout the day. Nobody really noticed, though. Sure, they noticed he was being quieter than usual, that he wasn’t cracking mom jokes every two seconds, but no one actually cared.

Except the Losers.

But they couldn’t ask him about it until lunch, which is exactly what they do.

As soon as Richie’s sitting down with his disgusting school food, the three other boys are asking questions.

“Rich? W-W-Wuh-What’s wrong?” 

“Richie, are you okay?”

“Richie, c’mon, talk to us.”

Richie ignores them for a bit until the questions get to be too much. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?” He snaps at them before taking a bite of the school’s disgusting mashed potatoes.

“Jeez, okay.” Ben mutters, and then the group’s moved on. They know not to badger Richie when he gets mad at them like that. 

Stan’s the only one that doesn’t move on from it, though. He stares at Richie, a look on his face that he’s the trashmouth has seen many times before.

The first time was when Stan was figuring out if Richie was gay, which he stared at Richie for about a week until he confronted him about it. Because Stan only confronts someone if he’s certain he’s right, and he had been. Richie had come out to him only months after Pennywise, and Stan had agreed to keep it secret. Still none of the others know.

The second time was when Stan was figuring out if Richie’s parents were abusive. That took about two days, and when confronted, Richie came clean to his dad hitting him. His mother wasn’t abusive, she just drank a lot because his father was abusive.

This was the third major time Stan would stare at Richie like that. Richie ignored it, like he always did, until Stan confronted him in gym class later that day. 

They were supposed to be running laps, but instead they were hiding out in the locker room until the gym teacher found out they were missing and told them to get out. It happened every day, but they usually had about twenty minutes before it did.

“Richie, be honest. Do you like Eddie?” Stan asks him, and for a second Richie genuinely wants to believe he’s joking, until he can see he’s not. “Yowza, Stanniel, no beating around the bush this time around?” Richie jokes, because of course, he can _never_ be serious. 

Stan only frowns at him, a sign that he needs to be serious or else he’s going to get a serious chewing out. “Richie, I’m going to ask again, and if you don’t answer honestly, I’m gonna beat your ass. Got it?” Richie, of course, can’t hold back a joke. “Kinky.” He remarks, winking at Stan, who ignores the joke.

“Do you like Eddie?” Richie sighs, staring at Stan for a minute. He tries to put on his best puppy dog eyes, hoping maybe Stan’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and change the subject.

He doesn’t, instead he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against a nearby locker. “We can stand here all day, trashmouth, but I’m not moving until I get an answer.” He states. Richie moves his eyes away from Stan’s gaze, not being able to handle the eye contact anymore.

“Nope, eyes are right here, Rich. We talked about this.” Richie sighs, because Stan’s right. They did talk about Richie’s inability to hold eye contact with people. 

Richie moves his gaze again, and this time he’s looking into Stan’s grass green eyes.

“Good. Now answer the question.” Stan commands. “Yes, I like Eddie.” Richie answers, looking away and for some reason holding his breath. 

“Dumbass, why’re you acting like I’m going to shun you? I know you’re gay, this is the exact same thing.” Stan states, sighing and walking over to his best friend. He wraps Richie in a comforting hug, something you don’t get often from Stan, as he hates, and Richie really means _hates_ physical contact.

“It’s okay to like Eddie. And before you ask, it was obvious to me, but I know no one else knows, so don’t freak out.” Richie nods, pulling away from the hug as he hears footsteps coming towards the locker room’s closed door.

It opens soon after, the fat gym teacher entering. “Uris, Tozier, get the fuck out.” He states, pointing out the open door. They nod and scramble out the door before he can scold them anymore.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Later, as the two curly headed boys are walking home, Stan brings up the topic of Eddie again.

“He called me this morning. I don’t know why he didn’t call you, but basically Sonia’s making him stay in the house for the next week because she heard him sneeze in the shower. She’s determined that his allergies are bad right now, even though it’s not even fucking allergy season.” Richie nods as he listens to Stan’s explanation. “I would have told you earlier but there was never really a good time.” 

Richie nods once more. “Cool beans, Staniel.” He jokes, and they’re back to their usual. Stan doesn’t give Richie the satisfaction of getting upset, he just rolls his eyes.

Richie’s about to retort something else when he literally trips over his own two feet and falls flat on his face. Stan can’t hold back the laugh that brings him as he stops next to Richie. “Dumbass.” He mutters, watching Richie lay on the ground for a minute before slowly standing.

“That was one hundred percent planned, I’ll have you know!” Richie announces, brushing off his clothes. “Whatever you say, idiot. You’ve got a scratch on your cheek now.” Stan states, pointing at the small scrape on Richie’s right cheek.

Richie just shrugs it off, wiping his hand on it to make sure it’s not bleeding, and when he’s sure it’s not, he’s back to walking.

The two part ways with a wave when they come upon Stan’s street, which is only a few blocks away from Richie’s street.

Once Stan’s gone, Richie’s left alone with his thoughts. He hates this part of the walk home, as he hates being stuck in his head. His brain loves to scream terrible things at him, things that make him insecure, that make him want to hurt himself more than his dad hurts him.

He’s never entertained the thoughts before. Never skipped a meal, or cut himself, or took one too many ADHD pills. He’s never just looked down from his spot on the branch outside Eddie’s window when he’s sneaking in and instead of climb inside the warmth of Eddie’s bedroom, rather just jump off. Maybe he wouldn’t die, but he would cause some damage.

He shakes the bad thoughts out of his brain, pinching himself in the thigh for thinking those things. That’s the most he’s ever done, never drawn blood in any way. He’s sure the Losers would notice if he did. He’s constantly wearing short sleeves, and even if he did it somewhere else, when the group goes to the quarry they strip all the way down to their underwear.

He turns into the driveway to the Tozier house, which finally breaks him out of his thoughts. As usual, the door’s unlocked, and when he enters, he sees the normal. His mom sitting on the couch, glass of wine in one hand, her other hand holding a blanket around her shoulders as she watches those cheesy operas of hers.

She smiles at Richie when she catches him looking at her.

“Wanna come watch TV with me, Rich? You can choose what we watch. Only if you want, though.” Richie nods without hesitation, though he hates those operas she watches. But this doesn’t happen often, Maggie Tozier doesn’t want to spend quality time with her son that she wishes was a daughter.

Maggie seems to smile wider upon seeing her son nod. “Go put your backpack away and then come back. I’ll still be here, don’t worry.” She murmurs, still looking at her son. Her tone is calmer than normal, gentler. And her face is softer, she just seems… calmer. More at ease than usual. Richie wonders why, but doesn’t want to badger her, because he’s sure she’ll be tired of him if he does.

So he just nods and races up the steps, taking two at a time. He runs to his room and drops his backpack on his bed before racing back downstairs and going to sit down next to his mom on the couch. 

He half expects her to not even acknowledge him, to suddenly decide she once again wants nothing to do with him. But instead, she hands him the TV remote to choose something, and when he takes it, she smiles again.

“Choose whatever you want, Rich.” She murmurs, patting him on the shoulder. He wonders what’s taken over her, she’s different now. Something’s... off.

After Richie scrolls through the guide for a bit he finally chooses some random Star Wars movie. He’s seen the movies about a million times but he doesn’t know what else to choose.

Maggie takes the remote once he’s chosen the movie, placing it on the arm of the couch next to her. She places her glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of them about halfway through the movie, earning a questioning glance from Richie.

Maggie doesn’t answer, only gingerly takes her son's head in her hands and places it in her lap. She cards her fingers through his hair, untying the knots gently, playing with the curls that match her own.

Richie doesn’t say anything, and before he realizes it he’s falling asleep. He’s almost asleep when Maggie taps him on the cheek.

“Richie, don’t fall asleep on me now.” She murmurs, but doesn’t stop carding her fingers through his hair. Of course, since she won’t stop, he falls asleep before he knows it.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

He wakes up hours later as Maggie changes the channel on the TV. She smiles at him as she sees his eyelashes flutter against his freckles cheeks.

Neither of the two say anything until Richie sees what time it is. It’s ten o’clock, thirty minutes past the time Richie usually sneaks out to hang out with Eddie for a bit.

He stands abruptly, but Maggie doesn’t comment on it. 

“I’m gonna-I’m gonna go to bed.” He states, starting to walk towards the main hallway of the house.

“Rich,” Maggie speaks up, stopping him in his tracks. “I know you’re gonna go sneak out to see Eddie, just walk out the front door. I’d hate to take you to the emergency room this late at night because you were an idiot and fell.” She mutters, a smile playing at her lips. Richie’s taken aback. _How did she know he sneaks out every night?_

It’s as though Maggie could read his mind, because she’s soon answering that question. “I literally watched you slide out that window a month ago, Rich. And I know the only person you’d do that for is Eddie.” Maggie states, smiling at her son. “So go ahead, but out the front door please.” Richie nods, shooting a glance behind him at his mother before exiting the house.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

He’s late getting to the Kaspbrak household, and he had already felt bad, but it made him feel even worse seeing Eddie sitting on his bed, staring at the window. As though he was waiting for Richie to come tumbling through there at any second. He was just staring, no clear emotion on his face.

He does frown deeply upon seeing Richie tumble into his window, immediately walking over to the trashmouth, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What the hell dude? It’s an hour past when you usually get here.” Richie raises his hands in front of his chest, in surrender.

“And you forgot the walkman.” Eddie mutters, rolling his eyes when he sees both of Richie’s hands are empty.

“Sorry! Mom actually wanted to spend time with me and then I fell asleep while she was playing my hair.” Eddie’s face softens when Richie explains, as he knows Richie doesn’t get to spend time with his mom. Between his dad and the alcohol, the last time he spent time with his mom was when he was ten, which was seven years ago.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Bring the walkman next time please.” Eddie murmurs, speaking much softer than before. “Okay. Can we cuddle now?” Eddie nods, walking over to his bed and sliding under the covers.

Richie slides his worn out black Converse off, pushing them under the bed with his jacket and sliding into bed next to Eddie. Once they’re both lying in Eddie’s bed, the hypochondriac reaches over, turning off his bedside lamp.

Richie snakes one hand around Eddie’s waist, pulling him close so his back is flush against Richie’s chest. This simple move always makes the two’s hearts flutter, but they never speak of it. This is just a friend helping a friend, because of Eddie’s insomnia. 

Richie reaches up with his other hand, carding his fingers through Eddie’s wavy hair much like his mother was doing to him earlier.

He does that until he hears the smaller boy’s quiet snores, soon falling asleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title and lyrics at the beginning of the chapter is from the song If You Want To by Beabadoobee


	2. The Other Side

**______**

I shouldn't be feeling this, but it’s too hard to resist

Soft skin and soft lips

**______**

_September 11, 1993_

Richie wakes up the next morning, squinting his eyes because of the bright sunlight shining in through the curtains.

Eddie’s still asleep, so Richie takes it upon himself to admire the smaller boy. He’s never done that before, usually goes back to bed until Eddie’s shaking him awake or wakes Eddie up then. But he feels compelled to admire Eddie today, for some reason. 

So he admires the boy’s face, the freckles scattered across his cheeks like stars. The long eyelashes that graze his cheekbones as he sleeps, his slightly parted pink lips that soft snores are slipping out of.

He admires the boy until Eddie starts to stir, which is when Richie quickly panics, falling down in the bed as gracefully as he can and pretending to be asleep.

It seems to work, because once Eddie’s woken up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he’s shaking Richie awake.

“Rich, wake up.” Richie groans, as he usually does, muttering a “Five more minutes.” To really make his sleeping seem authentic.

Eddie sighs and shakes Richie’s shoulder again. “Richie I swear to God, I will push you off the bed if you don’t wake up.” Richie ignores him, continuing to pretend to be asleep.

He soon feels two hands pushing at his side before he’s falling and landing on the floor with a harsh thump.

“Eddie Spaghetti, you’re so meannnnn.” Richie whines, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I told you what would happen, didn’t I?”

Richie laughs a bit, slipping his glasses onto his face as he does. “Very true. But isn’t your mom supposed to be panicking right about now?” Richie asks, raising an eyebrow at Eddie.

“Nah, she’s off at my aunt’s place for the weekend. I don’t know how I convinced her to go after she heard me sneeze yesterday.” Eddie states, sliding off his bed.

“You probably offered to have me eat-“ Richie starts, only to be cut off by Eddie. “No! That-That’s actually disgusting! I swear, one of these days, you’re gonna fucking learn my mom is disgusting.” Eddie rants.

“Nonsense, Mrs. K is amazing!” Richie insists, standing from the floor. “She’s so fat she has fucking sores, Rich. Sores!” Eddie states, gagging a bit as he does. Richie grimaces, adjusting his glasses. “That’s nasty, Eds. Did _not_ need to know that.” He states.

“Well, you do now. Want breakfast?”

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Once the two had eaten breakfast (which consisted of some disgusting healthy cereal Sonia bought Eddie), they decided to do something today, because it was a Saturday. But they couldn’t decide what.

“Wanna just watch a movie?” Eddie asks Richie. The trashmouth shrugs. “Sure.” He answers, still sitting down at the dining table across from Eddie.

Eddie nods, standing from his chair and gesturing Richie to the couch.

They’re about halfway through the cheesy horror movie when they hear a car pull into the driveway.

Eddie immediately pauses the show and walks over to the window to see who’s outside. It’s Sonia, he soon discovers, going into panic mode as soon as he sees her car.

“Shit, fuck, why the hell is she back?” He mutters to himself as he takes the VHS tape out of the player and turns off the TV.

“Wait, Sonia’s back?” Richie asks. Eddie panis even more when he does, just then remembering Richie was there with him.

“Yes. Go up to my room.” Eddie states, hands shaking as they slide the VHS in with the others. He’s running up the stairs behind Richie as the sound of a key turning in the lock sounds through the house.

Eddie’s panting when he reaches the top of the stairs and runs into his room, shutting his door behind him. Richie’s staring at him, a concerned look on his face.

“You okay?” He asks, hand already reaching over to grab the inhaler sitting on Eddie’s nightstand. Eddie shakes his head, taking a deep, wheezy breath. “Inhaler.” He breathes out, grabbing at it even though he’s two feet away from Richie.

Richie nods and walks over to Eddie, placing the inhaler in Eddie’s mouth gently. Eddie grabs it from him and pushes him away, not liking the way his stomach flutters with Richie so close.

A brief flash of pain seems to cross Richie’s face, but soon it’s being changed to a more neutral expression, one Eddie can’t quite read. The hypochondriac doesn’t quite know how to react, he’s always been able to read Richie. Hell, he’s his best friend, of course he can.

Eddie doesn’t let it affect him, though, just takes two puffs of the inhaler before walking over and placing it back on the nightstand. He would have given it to Richie, if it wasn’t for the fact he couldn’t handle if their hands were to touch, if only for a moment.

“Eddie Bear! I’m home! Come down and say hi to momma!” Sonia calls up the stairs. Eddie winces at the sound of her voice, sends a weird face towards Richie, and opens the door.

He walks downstairs, smiling fakely at his mother before kissing her on the cheek.

“I just felt so bad leaving you, Eddie Bear! I couldn’t bear it, so I came back early.” Sonia explained to her son. Eddie nods, still smiling fakely at her.

Sonia sighs when Eddie doesn’t speak. “Alright, you can go on upstairs now, I suppose.” She mutters out, starting to walk towards her chair in the living room. Eddie beams at her and nods, running up the stairs almost immediately, before she can change her mind.

Richie’s still in Eddie’s room when he enters, looking through a notebook. Eddie’s eyes widen and his heart starts beating when he notices it’s the notebook he usually sketches in. And most of the sketches are of Richie.

The boy in question turns to the hypochondriac upon hearing him close his bedroom door. He’s smiling as he waves Eddie over to himself.

“Eds, these are really good. Why didn’t you show me before?” He asks, and Eddie almost thinks it’s a joke until he sees how serious Richie’s face is. He shrugs in response, looking down at the simple sketch of the Losers he had drawn a few weeks ago.

“They’re not- they’re not that good.” Eddie mutters, looking down at his feet. Richie laughs out a sarcastic laugh and looks back down at the drawing. “Are you fucking kidding me, Eds? They’re amazing. They’re so realistic. Especially this one.” Richie says as he flips to another drawing, one Eddie had drawn last night while he was waiting for Richie.

“I mean, hell, you even got the little curl that always falls down over my forehead. And the tiny crack at the bottom of my glasses from Bowers.” Richie explains, admiring the drawing. Eddie shrugs once more, not even bothering looking at it.

“Can I have it? Or maybe you could draw another one at some point?” Richie asks Eddie, still smiling wide. Eddie looks up from his feet slowly, at Richie’s smiling face. “Seriously?” He asks timedly. Richie nods. “Hell yeah, your drawings are fucking amazing.” Richie states. “And so are these songs you write.” Richie states, pointing to another notebook.

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the thought of Richie absentmindedly looking through the songs Eddie had written about him.

“Yeah?” He asks, picking up the notebook and turning to his current favorite song. It’s called The Other Side, which he had written after a argument with his mom, when he had thought, for a split second, _What if I just slit my wrists?_

It was a terrible thought, though not one he hadn’t had often. He had just shaken the thought away, and wrote about death instead.

“That one’s really good. Could you sing it for me?” Richie asks, referring to the song Eddie’s looking at. Eddie pauses for a moment before nodding. “Um, sure.” He mutters, walking over to sit on his bed. He leans over and pulls a guitar out from under his bed, a guitar he had spent months saving up for, and one that his mom doesn’t know he has. It had taken himself forever to learn how to play it, especially since he had to teach himself. But he had eventually.

Eddie clears his throat and takes his position on his bed. Richie sits down in the desk chair across from where Eddie’s sitting on the corner of his bed, and watches expectantly.

“I’ve got tired eyes, a black sky, making its home under my lashline. You keep on crying, babe, I don’t mind. I’ll keep on staring at the clock, trying to pass time.” His voice is angelic to Richie, and the song is amazing.

“In my life, it flies by. Faster than you could say ‘I love you, goodbye.’ ‘It’s almost over.’ You say with a sigh. Will our lives be better when we make it to the other side? I hope we make it to the other side.”

“Eighteen, prom queen. We spend our time thinking ‘bout what we’ll be doing. We walk the quiet streets, not afraid of the sounds. Nothing bad ever happens in this town.”

“Mean dreams, can’t sleep. Younger me thought this’d be more bittersweet, but we’d never noticed how long it’d been, got too caught up in the life we’re living.”

“I hope we make it to the other side, and I hope, I hope all of our homes will have white fences. And I hope, I hope our smiles are wider than theirs. And I hope, I hope all of our dreams are kept fragrant. And I’ll meet you on the pavement when we make it to the other side.”

“I hope we make it to the other side.” 

By the time Eddie’s finished, there’s a tear gliding down his cheek, but he’s smiling. 

Richie’s smiling too. 

“That was great, Eds. Seriously, your voice is amazing.” Eddie smiles wider at Richie’s praise. “Thanks, Rich. That means a lot.” He says, sliding his guitar back under his bed.

“Now, how about that drawing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Eddie sang was The Other Side by Conan Gray and you can imagine his voice however you want but i imagine it to sound like Conan’s. The lyrics at the beginning are from Girls by Girl in Red.


	3. Lookalike

**______**

It’s not true, tell me I’ve been lied to

Crying isn’t like you

What the hell did I do?

**______**

_September 20, 1993_

Richie’s smiling as he sits down at lunch with the Losers later that day. He’s smiling wider than Eddie’s ever seen him smile, which makes him suspicious. _What did Richie do?_

“What’s with you, trashmouth?” Beverly asks, beating Eddie to the big question. Everybody seems to be wondering it, of course someone was going to ask.

“I got a girlfriend.” Richie states, ignoring how wrong those words feel in his mouth. They’re sour, and leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“No fucking way trashmouth got himself some pussy. Who is it?” Beverly asks. Eddie’s heart hurts, everything hurts. His whole body aches, his eyes sting with tears he’s trying to hide. His breathing’s picking up, it feels like his throat is closing in.

Nobody seems to notice his suffering, though. They’re too invested in Richie’s ‘drumroll’ which is really just him drumming his hands on the table.

“Elizabeth Parker.” He states, smiling widely. Everyone’s eyes widen at that. Elizabeth is a whore, and the head cheerleader of the school. How the hell did Richie get her?

“No fucking way.” Stan mutters, rolling his eyes. “There’s no way Elizabeth Parker, head cheerleader of the school, and school slut is your girlfriend.” Stan states.

“Oh really? Then why is she walking over here right now?” Richie asks, looking up, above Stan’s head. His eyes follow something until Eddie sees it.

Elizabeth Parker, with her sleek brown hair that’s pulled into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head. Elizabeth Parker, with her honey brown eyes and light freckles that are sprinkled across her cheeks like a constellation. She’s beautiful, all of her. Her figure as well as her face.

So why would she fall for Richie Tozier, with the shitty stick and poke of a fucking bandaid on his shoulder, and the scar from a lip piercing he had been dumb enough to try to do himself.

And why did Richie Tozier have to fall for the female twin of Eddie Kaspbrak, but nicer?

Eddie wants to cry as he watches Elizabeth sashay over to their table, sit down practically on top of Richie, and press her face to his.

Eddie’s running off to the bathroom before they’re pulled away.

He’s crying as he runs into the farthest bathroom from the cafeteria, into the handicapped stall, because he wants to be as far away from the toilet as possible.

Richie’s soon pulling away from his kiss with his girlfriend, confusion flooding his body when he sees Eddie’s gone.

“Where’d he go?” Richie asks, pointing to Eddie’s now empty seat. Everyone spares one glance to his seat before shrugging. Beverly’s the only one to stand to look for him.

“I’ll go find him. He probably left his inhaler in his locker or something.” She states, though she knows it’s not true. She’s known about Eddie’s crush on Richie, and Richie’s crush on Eddie. They’re so obvious yet obvious it hurts.

Beverly knows exactly where to find him, so it’s not long before she’s knocking on the stall door that she hears choked sobs coming out of.

Eddie looks up at the door when he hears the knocks, instinctively hiding his song notebook. “Who is it?” He asks, pulling his feet up so he’s sitting criss cross on the closed toilet. He had decided to just fuck it and risk getting diseases because he really needed to write about his feelings.

“Beverly.” She speaks, running a hand through her hair. Eddie slides off the toilet and unlocks the stall door before walking back over and sitting down on the toilet.

Beverly enters, closing and locking the door behind her. Neither speak as Beverly pulls Eddie into a hug. He buries his face in her shoulder, finally just allowing the tears to flow. He doesn’t bother trying to suppress the sobs either, not even caring. Beverly’s nice enough not to mention how the shoulder of her shirt is getting damp from his tears.

After about five minutes Eddie’s pulling away and handing Beverly his notebook so she can read his newest song, because he knows she’s going to ask. She was the only one that knew about his singing, and the guitar, as he had snuck into her apartment quite often over the summer to keep her company while her dad was at work. She had actually chipped in a bit to help buy the guitar, and helped him write some of his songs.

She doesn’t speak as she takes the notebook from Eddie and reads his newest song.

**_Let’s go back to the summer night, when we met eyes. Kissin’ under the city lights. But now you’re lying in another guy’s arms. ‘Cause I’m all gone._ **

**_But when you look in his eyes, do you think of mine? And when you look at that smile, do I cross your mind?_ **

**_I know in your head you see me instead, ‘cause he looks a lot like I did back then. Baby, don’t lie, he’s just a lookalike._ **

“That’s all I’ve got right now.” Eddie murmurs as Beverly hands the notebook back.

“Well, it’s really good so far. I don’t think you’ll need help writing this one.” She states, smiling at the boy. He smiles back at her, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his puffy eyes. 

“Now, clean yourself up. Class is going to be starting soon. I’ll put your lunchbox in your locker.” Beverly states, unlocking the stall door and slipping out.

Eddie walks over and locks it back, sitting back down and doodling in the margins of his notebook until the bell rings.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

After school, Eddie bikes home alone, as usual. He’s mulling over the song he wrote during lunch, thinking of what to add to it. Luckily, he comes up with a few more verses, and he makes a note to write them down as soon as he’s released to his room. Hopefully he’ll still remember them.

He enters his house after dropping his bike in the lawn, as usual. Sonia always offers to drive him to and from school, but she’s embarrassing enough already. He _really_ doesn’t need to kiss his mother’s cheek in front of the whole high school.

She’s sitting in her Lay-Z-Boy, as usual, when he enters. She waves him over as soon as she sees him, which is what she usually does when she catches him before he makes it upstairs.

“How was school, Eddie Bear?” She asks him, not looking away from her weird health documentary.

“It was good, momma.” He replies, a generic response to a generic question. “Make sure to take your pills.” She mutters before going back to completely ignoring her son.

Eddie sighs, walking into the kitchen and setting his fanny pack on the table, where he puts it every day. He grabs all the pills he needs and a glass of water before sneaking upstairs.

He waits about twenty minutes before going into the bathroom and flushing the pills, because by then it’s not suspicious. Sonia’s caught him flushing the pills before, because he hadn’t waited long enough before doing it.

Eddie walks into his bedroom and closes the door behind him, setting the still full glass of water down on his nightstand. A lot of the time he doesn’t actually drink it, but he still has to grab it so it’s not suspicious.

He grabs his notebook and finally adds the few verses he thought of on the ride home.

**_Can’t redo what’s already done, can’t compete because I’ve already won. Saying this time “It’s really love,” but honey, you’re not fooling anyone. Don’t you know we’re done?_ **

Eddie sighs, satisfied, and puts the notebook away for the day. He needs to do his homework.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Richie’s late climbing into Eddie’s window again tonight, meaning Eddie’s angrily pacing the room like the night before.

“Richie, you’re late again!” Eddie shouts at the other boy, as loud as he can without waking up his mother, who sleeps in her Lay-Z-Boy downstairs. The TV’s on, but you never know when she might wake up. Even from the slightest noise.

“I’m sorry Eds! I was on the phone with Elizabeth!” Richie shouts right back, still being mindful of his volume. Eddie’s eyes sting again, but he doesn’t cry this time. He can’t blame it on an asthma attack if Richie’s looking right at him.

“Right. Okay. Well. You don’t have the walkman either.” Eddie mutters, staring a burning hole into Richie’s empty hand. “Shit, sorry, Eds.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “You just can’t do anything right, can you?” He shouts at the trashmouth. Richie flinches at the words, and Eddie regrets them immediately.

“Guess that means you don’t need me to help you fall asleep at night? Because if I can’t do _anything_ right, that means I can’t do that right either.” Richie states, already backing up towards the still open window. Eddie shakes his head, now actually crying. “No, Rich, I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated.” He says, following Richie as the taller boy continues to back up to the window.

“You shouldn’t be frustrated at me, Eddie! You should be happy I’ve finally found a girlfriend that makes me happy! You should finally be happy I’m happy!” Richie shouts, climbing out the window and running back home. 

Eddie backs up until his knees hit the bed, and them he’s falling backwards, the soft bed cushioning his fall to the point where he doesn’t even bounce. He lays there and cries for God knows how long before he crawls up to his pillows and cries himself to sleep.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Eddie finishes the song the next morning, and decides to skip school, just coughing a few times after telling his mom he slept with the window open because it was hot last night. She was more than happy to let him stay home, though she wasn’t very happy she had to leave him alone to go to work.

Eddie was more than okay with her doing that, he needed some alone time.

Or, some semi alone time, because around lunchtime Beverly’s climbing through his bedroom window.

“Hey, Eddie. Richie looked upset and I saw you weren’t at school so I figured you two fought. What happened?” She asks, sitting down on Eddie’s still unmade bed-which is extremely abnormal for the hypochondriac-and takes him in.

His eyes are red and puffy from crying himself to sleep, and he’s sniffling, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He just overall looks terrible.

“I told him he couldn’t do anything right and then he left. I shouldn’t have done it, Bev. I was just so angry because he was late because he was talking to that girl, and then he didn’t even bring the walkman last night like he’s supposed to. I just wish I hadn’t of said that.” Beverly doesn’t speak as Eddie rambles on, she knows he just needs someone to talk to. She nods occasionally, only adding in a few “mhm”s so he knows she’s listening.

When he’s done, she speaks. “He told me he wanted to break up with her when he came into school this morning, Eddie. I told him not to, because he’s happy. Please don’t let your feelings get in the way of his happiness.” Eddie nods, sniffling a bit. “I’m sorry, Bev. Is he mad at me?” Beverly shakes her head. “No, honey. He’s just upset. But I can stay with you tonight because I think you both need some space from each other.” Eddie nods in agreement.

“Now, lemme hear your song, ‘cuz after that I’m sure you finished it.” Eddie nods, smiling a little, and grabs his guitar.

“Let’s go back to the summer night, when we met eyes, it’s like a movie line. ‘Kissin under city lights, but now you’re in another guy’s arms, ‘cause I’m all gone.”

“But when you look in his eyes, do you think of mine? And when you look at that smile, do I cross your mind? I know in your head, you see me instead, ‘cuz I look a lot like he did back then. Baby don’t lie, he’s just a lookalike.”

“Can’t redo what’s already done. Can’t compete ‘cuz I’ve already won. Sayin’ this time ‘It’s really love,’ but honey, you’re not foolin’ anyone. Don’t you know we’re done?” 

“But when you look in his eyes, do you think of mine? And when you look at that smile, do I cross your mind? I know in your head, you see me instead, ‘cuz I look a lot like he did back then. Baby don’t lie, he’s just a lookalike.”

“And I’ll admit that I sometimes, maybe, might think about you at night. Well, almost every night. No matter how I try to hide, and erase you from my mind, I’m dying to find a lookalike.”

“‘Cause when you look in his eyes, hope you think of mine. And when you look at that smile, hope I cross your mind. You see me instead, ‘cause you’ve been in mine every day since then. Maybe it’s time to find a lookalike.”

“No, I can’t lie. I need a lookalike.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, finally some good fucking angst. the lyrics at the beginning are from I Love You by Billie Eilish. the song Eddie sings is Lookalike by Conan Gray.


	4. Kiss It Off Me

**______**

Blue eyes, black jeans

Lighters and candy

I’ve been a fool

For strawberries and cigarettes

Always taste like you

**______**

_October 31, 1993_

Eddie sighs, scanning himself in the mirror of his bedroom. The Losers had decided to be The Breakfast Club. Beverly was going to be Claire, because she’s played by Molly Ringwald, so Richie insisted Bev play her. Eddie was forced to be Allison, because he was the only one the Losers had decided could play a girl. 

Richie was going to be Andrew, Stan was going to be Brian Johnson, Ben was going to be John. Mike was going to be the vice principal, and Bill was going to be the janitor.

Eddie, of course, hated his costume. He didn’t want to be a girl, but the Losers had forced him. And he hadn’t been able to say no to Richie when he had squeezed Eddie’s cheek and said “But you’d look so cute, cute, cute, Eds!” Eddie had flushed bright red and pushed Richie’s hand away irritably when he did that, but grumbled out an agreement nonetheless.

So, here he was, dressed in a black sweater paired with a gray skirt that flowed down his legs, stopping at his ankles. He was also wearing a black scarf around his neck and a pair of black sneakers with white socks peeking out the tops. He’s glaring at himself in the mirror, because he absolutely hates the costume. He also hates the fact he’s going to have to sneak out because if Sonia found out he was dressed as a girl she would have a fit.

Eddie turns away from the mirror to look at the window when he hears a tap on it. Beverly’s outside, smiling widely at Eddie. She’s wearing a brown skirt that stops at the ankles with a flowy pink blouse and a pair of brown boots. Her chin length hair that she had grown out for this very costume was curled a bit, and if Eddie hadn’t of know better, he would have thought he was staring directly at Claire Standish.

“Eddie, come on! The others are waiting!” Beverly states, sitting on the windowsill. Eddie nods, grabbing his candy bag before following her out the window.

The rest of the Losers are waiting outside in two cars. One is Bill’s car, which is obviously driven by Bill. Stan, Mike, and Ben are all riding with him.

The other car is Richie’s, obviously being driven by him. Elizabeth’s sitting in the passenger seat, next to Richie. Bev and Eddie end up in the backseat.

“Please tell me we’re going to the rich part of town first.” Eddie says as he buckles his seat. Elizabeth, in her Wonder Woman costume, laughs from the front seat.

“We’re not babies, Eddie. We’re going to a party tonight.” Eddie’s smile drops as soon as he hears that. It’s Loser tradition to go trick or treating and then go to the park and hang out until they get too tired to keep their eyes open before having a sleepover at Bill’s. 

“But we always go trick or treating.” He murmurs, looking between Richie and Bev, as though they’ll help him. Bev shoots him a sympathetic smile, and Richie doesn’t do anything, just starts driving to wherever this party is.

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t go to a party. There’s alcohol, and-and drugs! Bev-“ Elizabeth turns in her seat to face Eddie, cutting the boy off. “Shut up, Loser. If you want to go trick or treating with the other pathetic babies, then fine. But don’t drag the rest of us into it.” Eddie opens his mouth to speak again when Richie finally speaks.

“Elizabeth’s right, Eds. We’re not little kids anymore.”

Eddie shuts up for the rest of the drive.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

As soon as the two cars arrive at the giant house where the party’s being thrown, Eddie starts hyperventilating. He wishes he had brought his inhaler, but unfortunately, he hadn’t. He didn’t think he would need it.

The eight teens exit the cars and walk towards the house, all losing each other as soon as they enter. Bev and Eddie stay together for a bit, until Beverly taps him on the shoulder and tells him she has to use the bathroom. He nods but doesn’t move, continues to stand in the corner of the kitchen with his red solo cup of water.

Eddie stands there for a bit, people watching as he waits for Bev to return. After about thirty minutes he realizes she’s not going to return. 

He stands there for a bit longer until he sees Richie and Elizabeth enter with a glass bottle. He immediately knows that means they’re going to try to convince him to play spin the bottle, but there’s no way he’s going to lose his first kiss to some random stranger.

Or, at least, that’s what he says to himself until he’s being approached by the two.

“Eds, come play spin the bottle. It’ll be fun.” Richie slurs out, and Eddie knows at that moment that the other boy is drunk. Very very drunk. But Eddie can’t say no to Richie, he’s never been able to.

So it’s not long until he finds himself sitting in a circle with a bunch of other strangers in the living room.

Elizabeth hands the bottle to him to spin first, not caring how about how much he’s resisting. He finally accepts the bottle and sighs, placing it on the floor in the middle of the circle. He spins the bottle, not allowing his eyes to stray away from it as it spins quickly.

It’s not long before it’s stopping, and Eddie’s looking up to see it’s pointing at Richie. Elizabeth, who’s sitting next to Richie, looks furious. Like, steam could come pouring out of her ears at any moment furious.

She doesn’t say anything as Richie stands shakily and walks over to Eddie.

She still doesn’t say anything as Richie crouches in front of Eddie, placing a hand on the other boy’s skirt covered knee to balance himself.

Time seems to slow for Eddie as soon as Richie does that. He makes eye contact with Bev, who he hadn’t even known had been a part of the circle, right before Richie’s placing a hand on his cheek and pulling him into a kiss.

It’s a sloppy kiss, all teeth. But it’s Eddie first, and it’s with Richie, who tastes like vodka and cigarettes. But it’s amazing for Eddie, because it’s with Richie. He doesn’t want to pull away, he feels like he’s floating.

But soon Richie’s being forcefully pulled away by his girlfriend, right before he could deepen the kiss.

Eddie panics, standing and running away from the crowd of mostly drunk high schoolers.

He stops when he gets outside and sits down on the stairs that lead from the back porch to the yard.

Beverly’s soon to follow him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder as she sits next to him.

“How’re you feeling?” She asks, voice soft. Eddie sighs, not looking at the redhead next to him. “I just wanna go home. Or to Bill’s. Just anywhere but here.” Beverly nods.

“My dad’s home tonight, but if you think you can sneak in quietly, you can stay over tonight. We can leave now, if you want.” Eddie nods.

“Then let’s go.” Beverly states, standing up and brushing herself off. Eddie follows her actions.

The two walk to Beverly’s apartment building, Bev slipping her boots off halfway through the walk. “They’re uncomfortable.” She had said. “Rub my feet wrong.” 

Eddie had nodded and then they had continued with simple conversation, jokes and such. 

They had climbed in through Bev’s bedroom window. Eddie made sure to not make any noise, and was soon sliding off his scarf, sweater, and sneakers.

“We’ll have to share a bed.” Beverly murmurs, slipping off her clothes and sliding into an AC/DC shirt Richie had lent her with a pair of cotton shorts. Eddie nods, slipping his skirt off as well. He’s soon left in just a pair of black leggings and a black t-shirt, but it’s better than all the layers he was wearing before.

He slides into bed, being pushed against the wall by Beverly soon after. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s nice not to have to sleep in his house for a night. That fucking house felt like a prison to the hypochondriac boy, so anytime he could get out, he would.

He’s falling asleep soon after Beverly switches the lamp off, dreaming of cigarettes and messy kisses exchanged with a certain trashmouth.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

_November 1, 1993_

Eddie’s awoken very early the next morning to Beverly hurriedly pushing him off the bed. He understands immediately, scrambling off the bed and under it.

The bedroom door opens soon after, Beverly’s father entering. Eddie’s heart races, and he once again wishes he had his inhaler.

“I’m goin’ off to work. No boys.” He mutters, walking towards Bev. “Yes, daddy.” She whimpers out. It breaks Eddie’s heart a bit to hear how broken she sound when she talks to him compared to when she talks to the Losers.

“You’re still my little girl, right Bevvie?” There’s a pause. “No.” Beverly mutters out. “What the hell did you just say to me?” Alvin shouts, and Eddie wishes he could see what was going on.

Beverly’s slammed against the bed as her father wraps a hand around her neck tightly. This was the first time she had rebelled against him, and as soon as she had, she regretted it.

“You’re still my little girl, Bevvie.” Alvin says again, though this time it’s not a question. Beverly’s eyes are filling with tears, throat burns from lack of air as she coughs. She can practically feel the bruises forming.

Alvin says something else, but time seems to have slowed. It’s like she’s underwater, everything’s muffled.

She blacks out, and next thing she knows, she’s standing next to her father. He’s laying on the floor, blood pouring out of his head. She’s holding her bedside lamp, and her hands are covered in blood.

The red blood from his head soaks the carpet as Eddie crawls out from under the bed. He gags when he sees the blood before turning to Beverly.

“Bev.” He breathes out, scanning her frozen figure. Her face is covered with blood too, and so is the lamp. There’s blood everywhere, germs everywhere.

**The germs, Eddie! You need to get them off of you before you get sick! You’ll get AIDS from his blood, Eds.**

Eddie shakes the thoughts away. Now’s not the time to freak out over germs.

Beverly’s shaking as she drops the lamp and collapses into Eddie’s arms.

“Bev, we need showers. A-And we need to leave.” Eddie stammers out, shaking as well. Beverly doesn’t move though, doesn’t even make and attempt to. She pulls Eddie closer, into a hug. There’s blood matted into her hair as well, but Eddie hadn’t noticed it until now because it practically blends in with her fiery red hair.

“Come on, Bev. We can’t stay here. The police are going to find us. We can go to my house or something. Just anywhere but here.” Beverly nods and pulls away from the hug. Eddie has to drag her away from Alvin’s body, she was just frozen. She couldn’t move away from his body.

She blacks out again, and next thing she knows, she’s laying in Eddie’s bed. She’s not covered in blood anymore, and she’s wearing some clothes she knows Richie must have left at Eddie’s at some point. The shower runs a few rooms over, and the TV plays downstairs.

Her cheeks are sticky with tears, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She sniffles occasionally and sits up, scanning the bedroom. 

It’s the same as always, though now their soiled clothes lay in the trashcan next to Eddie’s desk. The trashcan used to overflow with balled up pieces of notebook paper, filled with lyrics of songs Eddie hadn’t liked. It now overflows with a pink blouse and a gray skirt.

She doesn’t even bother trying to remember what happened when she was blacked out. Her brain blocked those things out for a reason, she had learned it years ago, after sitting in her room for hours and finally remembering that her father had raped her and her brain had blocked it out.

After that, she had never tried to remember what her brain blacked out. 

Eddie comes out of the shower not long after, wavy hair dripping onto his shoulders. He smiles warily at Beverly and sits down next to her. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” He asks, placing a gentle hand overtop of one of hers. She smiles tiredly back at him. 

“I-I’m okay. It feels like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. It’s weird.” Eddie nods, flipping her hand over to actually hold it. “I wanna sleep.” She mutters, though she knows it can’t have been an hour since she had last slept. She’s emotionally and physically tired after that, and besides, her father had woken her up at six in the morning. So far she’s only had three hours of sleep.

“We can sleep. I’m tired too.” Eddie murmurs, smiling comfortingly at Beverly. It’s an almost grateful smile, like he was hoping she would say that. “Okay, night Eddie.” She murmurs, sliding into his neatly made bed and falling asleep almost instantly. Eddie lays next to her, taking forever to fall asleep. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Alvin laying on the ground, hears Beverly’s scream as she hit him on the head.

It doesn’t help that every time Beverly shifts Eddie feels inclined to check on her, and he can see the purple fingerprints in her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you ask, yes, that really just happened. also, before you yell at me, i AM NOT feminizing eddie. it’s just, the only ships in the breakfast club are heterosexual ships. the lyrics in the beginning are from Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan.


	5. Dirty Little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title from this chapter was influenced by the song dirty little secret by the all-american rejects, not the dirty little secret pennywise sang.

**______**

Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret

My dirty little secret

Who has to know?

**______  
**

_November 2, 1993_

Richie Tozier sighs as he sits down at lunch, two days after Halloween. He hadn’t remembered anything about that night, but he had shrugged it off. He had gotten drunk later in the night, so everyone else would have forgotten whatever dumb shit he did because they were probably drunk too. It’s not like it mattered anyway, the whole school knows he’s a complete dumbass.

Eddie and Beverly had missed school yesterday, which sparked surprise in Richie. Beverly’s dad would never let her skip school. He just assumed they were hung over or something.

Until they didn’t show up at lunch again. 

That was when he got concerned. He had waited until there was only about ten minutes left at lunch, and neither of the two had shown up. Neither had Elizabeth. He wondered if he had made them mad.

“Hey, Bill, have you seen Eds or Bev?” Richie asks right as the bell’s about to ring. Bill shakes his head before turning back to the conversation he was having with Stan and Mike. Richie sighs. _So much for that._

The thought of the two, especially Eddie, skipping stays in his mind all day.

And as soon as the final bell for the day is ringing, he’s running out of the school.

His plan was to go to Eddie’s house first, but of course Elizabeth has to catch him right as he’s about to walk into the school’s parking lot.

“Rich, can we talk?” Her voice is soft, but she’s clearly angry. For a second Richie contemplates saying no, until he remembers that’s _she’s my girlfriend, I can’t just say no._

So he nods and allows her to drag him off to the side of the school.

“Do you like Eddie? It’s okay if you do, I just wanna know.” Her voice is softer now, not even a hint of anger in it anymore. She sounds sad, maybe a bit disappointed.

Richie sighs and glances around to make sure no one’s listening. When he’s sure they’re isolated, he turns back to her and nods.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Elizabeth. But, I’m gay. I just don’t-“ She cuts him off, her face softer, and even sadder now. “You don’t want anyone to know, I get it. I could-“ She stops and takes a deep breath. “I could still pretend to be your girlfriend if you want?” Richie contemplates it for a moment. “Yeah, okay. But how did you know I liked him?” She laughs a bit.

“Well, it’s a bit obvious for me, but I also have a gay brother, so of course I can detect homosexual tendencies. But if it wasn’t for that, it’s the fact that you got drunk at the Halloween party and kissed him _very_ passionately during a game of spin the bottle.” She says, smiling a little. Richie nods, processing everything for a minute before speaking.

“Do you think he remembers?” Elizabeth shrugs. “I don’t even know if he was drunk, but if he wasn’t, you definitely were, so you’re safe babe.” She states. Richie nods and sighs in relief.

“Well, I gotta go. He hasn’t been to school in two days and I gotta check on him.” Elizabeth nods with a smile. “Go get your man!” She shouts after Richie as he starts to walk away. He flips her off in the process before turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

Once she’s sure he’s gone, her face drops. She slides down the wall of the school, clutches a gloved hand over her mouth, and sobs.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Richie practically sprints to the Kaspbrak house, suddenly feeling like one of the seven bricks that used to reside on his shoulders is now lifted. He’s finally down to six. Just six more people to come out to. Just six more people to tell about his crush on his best friend since kindergarten, Eddie fucking Kaspbrak.

He climbs up the tree at the side of the Kaspbrak household at record speed, throwing all caution to the wind.

When he’s about to look into the window, he sees something he would have never expected to see.

Eddie Kaspbrak and Beverly Marsh, spooning. Fucking spooning.

Richie feels sick, and he suddenly wants to leave. He should have known this was coming, that Eddie would find a girl eventually. He never would have expected it to be Beverly, he always thought she liked Ben. Or maybe Bill? One of those two.

Richie’s about to leave when Eddie sees him and waves him inside. He wishes he had never come here, because now he has to enter and talk to them. He has to pretend this doesn’t hurt him.

The trashmouth climbs inside with about as much grace as always. He stumbles in, literally head over heels, and probably knocks over about three things in the process. It’s a wonder Sonia doesn’t hear him.

He smiles awkwardly at Eddie once he’s inside. Eddie smiles back and waves. Beverly smiles, and looks like she wants to say something, but as soon as she tries, grimaces. Richie doesn’t understand until he sees the bruises on her neck.

“Damn, Eds. Never knew you were so kinky. Mind doing it to me sometime?” Richie remarks with a smirk. Eddie blushes bright red but glares at Richie regardless.

“Rich, her dad did that. That’s why we haven’t been at school, we’re not mad at your dumb drunk antics.” Richie’s surprised. How did Eddie know that’s why he was there?

“Also, before you ask, you’re just that easy to read, Rich.” Eddie states, smiling a bit. Richie sighs and turns toward Bev to assess the damage.

“What happened?” He asks, to no one in particular. “I don’t really know, I blacked out for most of it. But yesterday morning, my dad got mad at me and tried to choke me, so I’m gonna assume what happened was that I hit him in the head with my lamp.” Beverly explains, her voice hoarse. Richie kind of regrets asking now, because speaking that much no doubt hurt her.

She seems to sense how Richie’s feeling, because she smiles comfortingly at him. “Don’t worry about me, Rich. I’m fine. Just because this happened doesn’t mean I should be treated any differently. I’m the same as always.” Richie nods, feeling a bit better. 

He turns back to Eddie. “Got any new songs for me?” He asks, a bit of a smirk playing at his lips. Eddie blushes and debates showing Richie ‘Lookalike,’ but decides against it. He decides it would be too obvious.

He’s about to grab his guitar and show Richie one of his older songs when the trashmouth is picking up ‘Lookalike.’ Eddie sighs. _Guess that plan failed._

Richie’s smiling when he hands the paper to Eddie. “Sing this one. Please.” He requests, already sitting down on Eddie’s bed. Eddie nods and takes the paper, smiling nervously at Richie before sitting at his desk.

He sings the song with his eyes closed, not wanting to see Richie’s reaction until the end.

Richie, on the other hand, doesn’t look away from the hypochondriac for a single second. Butterflies flutter in his stomach as he listens, _really_ listens to the songs. His only thought the whole time is _Is this about me?_

He quickly shakes it away, though. There’s no way it’s about him, it couldn’t be. Eddie likes girls, not guys. And even if he did like guys, he would never like _Richie_.

When Eddie’s done singing he looks up at Richie, once again smiling nervously. “What did you think?” He asks, placing his guitar down on the floor next to him.

“It was great, Eds. You should be a singer in the future.” Eddie shakes his head, blushing bright red yet again. “No, I’m not that good. And don’t call me that!” He snaps. The atmosphere changes as soon as he does, and for a fleeting moment he wishes he hadn’t of said that, because the atmosphere wouldn’t have made such a drastic turn. It’s too late, though, he decides as he watches Richie turn to Bev and tell a terrible joke while Eddie watches from the sideline.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Richie doesn’t leave when the sun goes down, doesn’t even think about it. He stays with the two other teens until midnight, when Eddie’s yawning and telling Richie he needs to go to bed. Richie even stays after that, cuddling in behind Eddie so that he’s spooning the hypochondriac. Eddie’s spooning Beverly, and it’s like that that the three fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects.


	6. Devil Town

**_____**

I’ve gotta find a way to make this feel okay

When rock-bottom, for me, is routine for someone else

**_____**

_ November 5, 1993 _

Eddie sighs as he enters his house after school on Friday. He has to keep her distracted while Beverly sneaks through the front door and up to Eddie’s room, because she’s still in no shape to climb up a fucking tree and through his window.

This had been their first day back at school, and luckily no questions were asked by the Losers. Richie had already explained what happened when he got to lunch on Wednesday.

He walks into the living room and smiles at his mother, something he does every day. She smiles back, and scans him. He hopes he doesn’t look suspicious.

“How was school?” She asks. “It was good.” He answers, a dull silence taking over after that. Eddie should have thought about what to talk about before this.

“Alvin Marsh, the father of Beverly Marsh, has been found dead in his apartment. His daughter is nowhere to be seen, but she is the only current suspect of the murder. More to be revealed later.” Eddie’s eyes widen when he hears that. He hears Beverly stop out in the hall abruptly, her sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor. Eddie’s heart skips a beat and he winces at the sound.  _ Shit. _

Sonia’s quick to turn towards the hall, but Eddie’s even quicker to distract her. 

“I can’t believe Beverly did that.” He says, just trying to distract his mother long enough for Beverly to get to safety. Sonia looks back at her son and shrugs. “I wouldn’t put it past the dirty whore.” She states, picking up the remote and changing the channel. “Go do your homework now.” She states, eyes glued to the TV. Eddie nods and walks away, upstairs to his bedroom.

Beverly’s sitting on his bed when he enters, guilt clear on her face along with another emotion Eddie’s far too familiar with, fear. 

“Eddie, they’re gonna call me in for questioning now and-and then I’m gonna get arrested! I can’t go to jail.” She sobs out, tears glistening in her eyes. Eddie drops his backpack and shuts the bedroom door behind him before walking over to her and enveloping her in a hug.

“Bev, it’s all gonna be okay, I promise. Just tell the police it was self defense, and the Losers can vouch for you. We all know how terrible your dad was.” Beverly nods, a tear escaping her eye and sliding down her cheek. “You’re sure?” And even though Eddie really  _ wasn’t  _ sure, he nods, just to help her feel better.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

_ November 6, 1993 _

Eddie and Beverly go to the police station after lunch on Saturday. It’s convenient that it’s a weekend, because if Eddie continues to pretend to be sick, Sonia’s going to take him to the hospital, and Beverly can’t miss anymore days of school.

The secretary of the police station smiles warily at the two when they enter and waves them over to her desk.

“Hello, how can I help you two?” She says to the two teens, though she’s eyeing Beverly. “We want to speak to chief Bowers.” Eddie states, grabbing the woman’s attention away from Beverly. She nods and gestures to the chairs over on one of the walls. “Go sit while I get him.” She states before standing and walking off.

Eddie drags Beverly over to the chairs and the two sit. 

It’s not long until they’re being called back in the chief's office.

He smiles at the two and waves them over to sit in the chairs opposite himself. Beverly and Eddie do as told, both feeling a bit anxious in the office.

“So, Beverly, can you tell me what happened with your father?” Beverly nods. “I-I killed him.” She stammers out, voice weak. I breaks Eddie’s heart, he’s never heard her sound so broken and weak.

Chief Bowers nods and writes something down in the notepad in front of him. “Why?” He asks, staring at the bruises on Beverly’s neck. Beverly self consciously covers them with her hand.

“It was self defense.” She says. “Well I figured as much, considering those bruises. Can you just tell me the full story and stop beating around the bush?” Beverly nods.

“It was Monday morning, and he had come in to tell me he was going to work. And he asked me ‘Are you still my little girl?’ Which he’s been asking me for years. And when I said no he grabbed me by the neck and started-“ Beverly takes a shaky breath.

“He started choking me. And then I blacked out, and the next thing I know, I’m covered in his blood with my lamp in my hand, and he’s dead, on the floor.” Chief Bowers nods, writing down all the basic details of Beverly’s story.

“Has anything else happened with him, Beverly?” She nods. “Can you explain?” Beverly nods again.

“He’s sexually assaulted me multiple times, and raped me a few times.” Bowers nods. “Anything else?” Beverly thinks for a moment before shaking her head.

Bowers nods and caps his pen, sticking it in the cup of other pens sitting on his desk. “Just one last question, okay?” She nods. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

“I was scared.” She answers. It’s just then, as Eddie looks over at her, that he notices the tears in her eyes. He wonders how she hasn’t cried yet, having to talk about all this traumatic stuff.

“What were you scared of?” Bowers asks. “Well, when he was alive, I was afraid no one would believe me. And once I’d killed him, I was afraid I would get put in jail, the death sentence. I don’t want to die.” She stammers out, lip quivering a bit.

“Well, you’re not going to. Based on everything you told me, and your father’s history, you’re gonna be fine. But you’re going to have to live with another relative because you’re not eighteen yet, so you might have to leave Derry.” Beverly nods, clutching one of Eddie’s hands in her own sweaty palm under the table. Usually Eddie would pull away immediately and slather on about two gallons of hand sanitizer, but he understands she needs comfort.

“You two can go now. Case closed, I guess.” Beverly starts to stand before pausing. “You’re not gonna tell people it was me, right?” Bowers shakes his head. “We’ll rule it as a suicide or something. We don’t even have to say anything if we don’t want to, no one in this town liked that asshole.” Beverly nods, a bit of a smile on her face as she does. “Okay. Bye.” She says, exiting the room with Eddie in tow.

The two exit the police station, Beverly smiling a happy, free smile. She finally feels happy, free from the shackles her father’s put on her ankles ever since she was born. Eddie’s smiling as well, just happy to see his best friend happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lyrics at the beginning are from the song Taking Care of Things by Cavetown


	7. Burning Bridges

**_____**

A part of me still wants you

A part of me wants to fall asleep

While we were all alone in your bedroom

You came like a recurring dream

A part of me still hates you

How could you love someone and leave?

**_____**

_November 10, 1993_

The Derry police were quick to find Beverly’s closest family member. It was her aunt, who had actually lived in Derry already. Luckily Beverly decided not to keep any of the furniture from the ratty apartment she shared with her dad except for her keyboard. She obviously kept her clothes, but everything else was left there at the apartment for someone else to deal with.

But, sadly for most of the Losers, that meant they had to help Beverly shop for things for her bedroom. They were currently looking at the beds. Her aunt had given Beverly a giant wad of cash and told her to ‘Have at it.’ 

The Losers had already picked out quite a few posters for her room, a desk, and even a TV. They didn’t know exactly how much money Beverly’s aunt had given her, so they just hoped they were going to have enough for everything.

“Hey, Bev, what about this one? It’s soft so it won’t squeak when you get it on with your boy. Or girl, I don’t judge.” Richie says, pointing at a random mattress. Elizabeth, who’s standing next to him with his arm around her waist, snorts loudly.

“Jesus Christ, Richie. Just shut up.” Eddie mutters, rolling his eyes at the trashmouth and his girlfriend. Beverly nods in agreement with Eddie. “Yeah, what ‘Eddie Spaghetti’ said.” Eddie glares at her and punches her playfully in the arm. “No.” He states, turning back to look at the various mattresses and bed frames.

After about another twenty minutes, the eight teenagers had moved on from the mattresses to the paint. Eddie had known from the minute they entered that isle something bad was going to happen, but he didn’t mention it.

There was an employee at the end of the isle that had started glaring at the laughing teenagers as soon as they turned on to the isle. 

She soon left, her eyes not leaving the group until they had to.

That was when it had happened.

“Hey, what about this color?” Richie had asked before Eddie felt something cold splat on the back of his neck. He knew immediately what it was. Paint.

The hypochondriac turned, glaring heavily at the trashmouth, who was holding a sample bottle of paint. “Uh oh, spaghetti’s angry.” He taunts, eyes widening when he sees Eddie pick up a bottle of red paint.

“Listen, Eds, c’mon, I didn’t mean it, okay?” Eddie doesn’t listen, squeezing some paint onto his hand and flinging it at the taller boy. 

But, because he was terrible at aiming, it had hit Elizabeth square in the face. Right between the eyes.

She laughs, grabbing a bottle as well.

Before they knew it, the teens were in a full on paint war. It had only stopped when that same employee from earlier had walked back onto the isle. She had quickly broken it up and kicked them out.

“Wait, I wanted to buy that stuff!” Beverly shouted when the woman tried to take the cart of furniture away. The woman glared at her. “Call an actual adult and I’ll be happy to sell it to  _ them _ .” The woman states before retreating back into the store.

Beverly sighs and turns to the group. “I can’t believe you guys just got us kicked out.” She says, to no one in specific. She wasn’t mad, hadn’t meant to sound like she was, but to Eddie, it sounded like she was.

“Hey, it was Richie’s fault! He threw the paint first!” Eddie shouts, pointing at the trashmouth.

“Oh, so everything’s my fault now, huh?” Richie retorts, clearly hurt but feigning anger. Eddie seems to buy it. “Yeah, you can’t do one simple thing right, you fucking idiot!” Richie crosses his arms, hand slipping from Elizabeth’s grasp. “Then I guess I’ll just fucking leave, again!” He shouts, starting to walk off. The rest of the Losers just watch the scene in front of them, not really knowing what to do. They’re all sure this issue runs deeper than the paint thing, but they don’t try to pry.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna go with him.” Elizabeth states, the first to break the silence as she points at her boyfriend. She doesn’t wait for a response before running off.

Stan’s the next to speak. “I’m gonna go too.” He murmurs, following the two. Mike speaks up as well. “Um, bye guys.” He says, being the last to walk away.

“D-D-Don’t worry, B-B-B-Bev. I’ll stay.” Bill states, sitting down next to Beverly. She nods and her paint covered head on his shoulder. Ben looks heartbroken for a moment, sitting down a few feet away from the two. Eddie sits next to him, smiling a reassuring smile at Ben.

“I know how it feels, Ben. It’ll get better, unsurely, but a smile nonetheless, at Eddie. “Okay, thanks Eddie.” The smaller boy nods, just allowing Ben to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Rosie, Beverly’s aunt, shows up about an hour later, takes one look at the four remaining teenagers, and sighs. 

“You got kicked out?” She asks, getting out and locking her car. Beverly nods. “B-B-Because of Richie.” Bill stutters out. 

Rosie nods and leads the four inside to buy everything Beverly wasn’t allowed to buy earlier. Once they’re done with that she loads everything into her car and starts the drive to her house, making sure to drop Ben and Bill off on her way.

The remaining three get to unpacking once they’re at Rosie’s house, after Beverly and Eddie had showered of course. Rosie had lent one of her old high school hoodies and a pair of sweatpants to Eddie, who’s ashamed to admit that they not only fit, but were even a bit big on him.

Rosie, though, thought it was adorable.

“You’re cute, Eddie. Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?” Rosie asks, causing Eddie to blush a bit in embarrassment.

He shakes his head timidly. “No, because Richie has a girlfriend.” Eddie mutters, even more embarrassed to admit this to Beverly’s aunt, of all people. Rosie nods and takes a sip of the tea she had made herself.

“Well, he’s missing out on a lot, hun.” She states, turning the TV on, just for a bit of background noise. By now they were done unpacking and were just waiting for Beverly to come out of her room to eat dinner.

“So, you’re supportive?” Eddie asks, just trying to fill the silence. “Of course! I kind of have to be, I’m a lesbian.” Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?” He asks. Rosie smiles at him and laughs a bit. “Yeah, I am. Though still single because I cannot find a _single_ lesbian here in this godforsaken town. I was actually debating moving away when I heard about Bev.” Eddie nods and smiles back at Rosie. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re still young.” Rosie laughs once more. “Now you sound like you’re the old wise one giving me advice.” She says, another smile playing at her lips.

Beverly comes into the living room at that moment, smiling at the two. She had actually been out in the hallway, listening to the two bond. She’s glad her aunt and her best friend get along so well.

“Ready for dinner? It’s gonna be leftover lasagna, but it’s edible! I think at least.” Rosie rambles-mainly to herself-as she walks to the kitchen and opens the fridge. She takes a glass pan out of the fridge and sets it on the counter, grabbing three plates as well. 

“Help yourselves!” She says to the two, smiling at them before already serving herself. Once they’re all done getting their food, they sit down and eat, making small talk the whole time.

Before long, it’s the time Eddie has regretted every single day ever since he was fourteen. It was time to go to bed.

Rosie was nice and had offered him the guest bedroom, which he had awkwardly denied.

“Why don’t you want the guest room, Eddie? Do you need a night light? I can find one!” Rosie starts, already starting to walk off. Eddie stops her, though.

“Uh, no, I have insomnia, and I sleep better when I’m-“ Eddie sighs, cheeks burning from embarrassment. He feels like a child, a toddler that’s still afraid of the boogeyman under the bed. 

“I sleep better when I’m cuddling with someone.” He mutters, looking down at his feet. Rosie’s silent for a moment. “And your mom won’t get you any medication for it?” Eddie’s eyes widen and he shoots his head up to look at the woman in front of him, who he just now realized actually looks a lot like Beverly, save from the red hair.

“No! No more pills.” He states. Rosie furrows her brows in confusion. “Does your mom drug you?” She asks, concerned. Eddie shakes his head frantically. “No, nothing like that! She just always thinks I’m sick, so she got me all these fake pills, and I can’t with them anymore. I cannot take anymore pills, Rosie.” Rosie nods. “Okay, okay. You can sleep in Bev's room then. I trust you two.” Rosie states, smiling comfortingly at Eddie.

Eddie nods and rushes off to Beverly’s room before Rosie can change her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, yes, beverly’s aunt is a lesbian because i just have to have as many gay characters as possible. the lyrics at the beginning are from the song Promises by Beach Bunny.


	8. Cancer

**_____**

But counting down the days to go

It just ain’t living

And I hope you know

That if you say

Goodbye today

I’d ask you to be true

**____**

_ November 15, 1993 _

Richie sighs as he enters his house after school on Monday. It had been a pretty shitty day, especially since him and Eddie have this stupid silent game going on between the two. Richie just wishes they could go back to normal, but they can’t. Because he thinks Eddie’s still angry at him.

“Rich? Can you come in here?” Maggie calls into the house. Richie walks into the living rolm, shocked to see his mother crying on the couch. She doesn’t have any wine today, which doesn’t really strike as surprising to Richie anymore. He had walked into the house on Wednesday, covered in paint, to see Maggie lugging a garbage bag full of alcohol and cigarettes out the back door. Richie wanted to be angry that some of the alcohol and cigarettes were clearly from his room, but he couldn’t. She was fixing herself.

She had turned to him, breathless, and spoken two single words. “No more.” And Richie had nodded. He had kept those words in his brain, and no matter how much he’s wanted to, he hasn’t smoked a single cigarette since then.

So, to see her without alcohol or a cigarette to cope wasn’t surprising. What was surprising, however, was to see the TV off. She was just staring at the doorway, a few tears shining on her cheeks.

She smiles a sad smile at her son when he appears in the doorway and waves him over.

He walks over to the couch, and when she gestures to, sits down next to her.

“Rich, I have to tell you something, okay baby? And please don’t be mad at me.” Richie nods, a bit lost. “Mom, what’s happening? You’re kind of scaring me.” Maggie takes her son’s hands in her own and laughs, a sad, wet, emotionless laugh.

“I have cancer. Leukemia.” She says, frowning a bit. Richie’s heart drops when he hears those words. “It’s fatal, the doctor’s caught it too late. That’s why I’ve been acting differently. Getting that diagnosis, it really woke me up. I know it’s too late now, but I want to try to fix things.” Richie nods, grasping his mother’s hands a bit tighter. “I want to fix things too.” He mutters, rubbing a thumb across her hand.

“Well, how about to start, we catch up a bit? Mostly you catching me up, because nothing new happens to me, only if you want. I won’t be mad at you, by the way.” Richie nods, thinking for a minute. Where should he start? Starting at fourth grade and going until junior year is going to be a bit much to cover for them.

“Rich, just tell me the basics. Like,” Maggie thinks for a minute. “Do you have any crushes? Or a girlfriend?” Richie sighs. “It’s a bit… complicated. I technically have a girlfriend, but she’s a coverup, so the Losers don’t know that I’m…” Richie trails off. Maggie watches her son’s face, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I’m gay, and I’m actually in love with Eddie. I have been since like sixth grade.” Maggie nods and smiles comfortingly at her son. “You should tell him, and your girlfriend, because you’re leading her on, and it’s so obvious he likes you, honey.” Richie shakes his head. “She already knows, mom. She actually confronted me about it after Halloween. But I could never tell Eddie.” Maggie sighs. “Okay, hun, whatever you say. Um, before we continue this, I wanted to tell you that I’m filing for divorce with Wentworth. He’s an ass, and he’s currently staying at the motel on the edge of town.” 

Richie smiles at his mom. “That’s good, mom. That’s amazing, actually.” Maggie nods. “Keep talking to me. What’s your favorite song? Your favorite food? Your favorite color? Who’s your best friend? You don’t have to tell me your life story, just the smaller, more important details.” Richie nods.

“Well, my favorite song is Don’t Fear The Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. My favorite food’s pizza, pink is my favorite color, and Stan’s my best friend.” Maggie smiles for a moment before it drops. “Why did you drink? And smoke? And for how long?” Richie sighs.

“I did it to cope, with everything. Just like you did it.” Maggie nods, feeling a bit guilty. “I started smoking when I was thirteen and drinking last year.” Maggie nods again.

“Who was your first kiss? Oh, wait, lemme guess, Stan?” Richie nods, smiling at his mom. “You remember that! When we-“ Maggie cuts him off. “When you were in second grade and were playing house and Stan was the dad and you guys kissed when he ‘got back home from work.’” Maggie laughs a bit at the memory. “That was a good time.” She says, a bit sad she missed so much of her son’s life.

“Listen, Rich. I’m sorry-“ Richie cuts her off with a swift, curt “Mom.” But Maggie continues. “I feel like I’ve let you down.” She says, looking down at the hardwood flooring of the living room. Richie shakes his head. “No, mom, you may have let me down before, but I’m still alive, and you’re trying to get better now!” He states. Maggie sighs and nods. “I suppose you’re right. Now go do your homework, I need to make dinner.” Richie nods, running off to his bedroom to do as told. 

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Later that night, as Richie’s climbing into Eddie’s window, walkman in hand, he wonders if he should tell Eddie. He thinks for a moment that he shouldn’t, because he doesn’t want to burden his crush.

But Maggie’s been like a second mother to Eddie for years, he’d want to know if she was going to die.

So Richie decides to tell him.

Eddie’s sitting on the bed, staring at Richie as the lankier boy tumbles through the window.  _ Literally  _ tumbles.

He holds back a laugh, watching Richie stand and dust himself off before shutting the window.

His eyes widen when he sees a scratch on Richie’s cheek, in the same spot the old one was. Eddie takes a few steps forward, until he’s standing in front of the trashmouth, and gingerly places a hand on the scrape.

Richie doesn’t move or wince, and it’s not bleeding, but Eddie doesn’t care. His mother’s taught him for years that regardless of whether it’s bleeding, you  _ always  _ need a bandaid. And ointment.

So, Eddie rushes over to his desk to grab the first aid kit that’s sat on it for years, although only ever been used for Richie. 

“You can sit on the bed, Rich. And put the walkman on the nightstand.” Eddie says, opening the first aid kit and grabbing a bandaid and a tube of ointment.

“What tape did you bring tonight?” Eddie asks, walking over to Richie. He walks in between the trashmouth’s legs, something both of the boys are so familiar with now, because Richie has a tendency to get injured.

“I brought two. The one you’re listening to tonight is your favorite, and the other one is for you to listen to another night. Without me.” Eddie furrows his eyebrows as he applies ointment to Richie’s cheek. “How am I supposed to do that?” He asks, opening the bandaid.

“I’ll lend you the walkman one night.” Eddie’s still confused as he places the bandaid gently on Richie’s cheek. “Where are you going to be?” He asks. Richie shrugs. “Probably the hospital.” 

Eddie just stares at him, still confused. “My mom, she told me she has cancer.” Eddie’s stomach drops. “Shit, Richie.” He murmurs, leaning forward and enveloping the ravenette in a hug. Richie hugs back, tucking his head in Eddie’s shoulder as well.

“She’s gonna die, Eds. The doctors found it too late, so there’s no point in treatment.” Eddie nods, rubbing Richie’s back to comfort him. “It’s gonna be okay, Richie. I promise.” Richie shakes his head.

“She’s going to die.” Eddie nods. “I know, but it’ll be okay, okay? You can stay with me when she does or something. You’re not gonna be alone.” Eddie says, though he doesn’t know if that’s going to be possible.

Richie nods, knowing Eddie’s just trying to make him feel better, and there’s no way he could do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maggie tozier redemption arc? you bet. the lyrics at the beginning are from Cancer by My Chemical Romance.


	9. Don’t Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hanbrough chapter because I have to focus on the background ships!

**_____**

Oh, please say to me, you’ll let me be your man

And please say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand

**_____**

_ November 25, 1993 _

Bill places his bike in the yard, just inches from the porch of the Hanlon’s house. He can hear the various animals in the distance as he walks up the steps, pulling his gloved hands out of his pockets. The news said it was supposed to snow today, and Bill hopes it does. Because if it does, that means he’ll be stuck here tonight, that he’ll finally be able to do what he’s been wanting to do for the past four months. He’ll finally be able to kiss Mike. Or maybe just hold his hand. Or maybe he won’t even get past the stage of telling Mike about his crush. 

He just hopes that he will.

Bill knocks on the door with his left hand, his right being used to push his bangs out of his face. His mother keeps telling him he needs a haircut, but won’t take him to get one, and he keeps forgetting to get one himself.

The door opens to reveal Mike’s grandma. She’s smiling softly at the boy in front of him, not even surprised to see him standing in front of the door. She was surprised to see him on the first Saturday of October, but it’s no longer an unlikely occurrence to see Bill Denbrough standing on the doorstep every Saturday.

She’s asked Mike a few times if something’s going on between the two boys, but every time he just blushes bright red and shakes his head. She always just smiles and backs out of the room, making sure he knows he can tell her anything.

She’s thought a few times of asking Bill, but can never get enough alone time with him to do it. It’s as though Mike can sense the two are alone for too long, because he always seems to walk in right as she’s about to ask.

“Bill, good to see you. Come in.” Bill nods, making sure to take off his muddy boots as soon as he’s entered the house. It’s been raining for the past two weeks, so there’s mud everywhere.

He’s immediately greeted with an amazing smell of whatever she was cooking.

“That s-s-smells amazing. What are y-you cooking?” Bill asks, following the woman into the cooking and leaning on the counter to look at her. She smiles at him. “It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti.” She says, stirring the pot on the stove a bit. Bill nods. “I’m sure it’ll t-taste amazing, M-M-M-Mrs. Hanlon.”

She laughs a bit and turns away from the stove to face Bill. “How many times do I have to tell you, Bill? You can call me Shirley.” She states. Bill nods. “That’s right.” There’s a bit of a silence between the two.

“W-W-Where’s Mike?” Shirley thinks for a moment. “I believe he’s out with his grandpa, probably with the pigs. I would offer to take you to them, but I’m a bit occupied.” Bill nods, waving her off. “I-I-I-I-It’s fine, I’ll f-find them.” She nods.

Bill exits the house, going out the back door to walk around the farm. There’s a lot of animals, and luckily it doesn’t take Bill too long before he’s finding Mike and his grandpa. They’re not with the pigs, as Shirley had said, instead with the bunnies.

Mike looks up when he sees Bill walking over, immediately breaking into a smile upon seeing his stuttering crush. Bill smiles back, walking over to where the other two are standing near the bunnies.

Mike places the bunny he was holding back in its cage and hugs Bill, tighter and for longer than you should probably hug your best friend that you see every weekend, but Bill doesn’t mind. He hugs Mike back until they’re pulling away and Leroy’s smiling at Bill.

“Good to see you again.” He says, though as more of a common courtesy. He’s never liked how touchy the two boys are, always suspecting Mike may be feeling something for the stuttering boy. But he never mentions it, he doesn’t want to push Mike away. He loves his grandson, and that’s not going to change because of who he loves. Leroy may not seem like he’s the most supportive, but he could care less whether people are gay or not. He just doesn’t want Mike to get hurt.

Although it seems kind of like he won’t, Leroy realizes as he watches Bill take the bunny from Mike’s arms and hold it gently. Leroy’s also afraid Bill might hurt Mike, because he’s seen how close he and Beverly seem.

He tries not to dwell too much on it, though.

“This one’s Lilah. She’s the nicest of the bunnies, so she doesn’t bite. Wanna feed her?” Mike asks, rambling a bit. Bill just nods, not really minding how much Mike’s rambling. He thinks it’s a bit cute, how Mike just talks about the things he loves with such enthusiasm, with that little twinkle in his eyes. 

Bill wonders if Mike’ll ever talk about him like that. He shakes the thought away, though. Now’s not the time.

He happily takes the baby carrot from Mike to feed to the bunny. “Like I said, she doesn’t bite, so you don’t need to worry.” Bill nods, smiling at Mike as he feeds Lilah the carrot.

Once he’s done that, he settles with petting her. 

“She’s really soft.” Mike nods, petting her as well. Bill makes sure not to let their hands graze, he doesn’t want to make anything awkward. Mike’s heart hurts a bit as he notices Bill’s hand is practically running from his own.

Eventually Mike just lets his hand drop from the bunny, realizing Bill clearly doesn’t want to touch him.

“Boys, it’s almost dinner time, we should be getting inside.” Leroy states, starting to walk towards the house. Mike nods, taking the bunny from Bill’s hands and placing her in the cage, making sure to lock it as well before they’re walking to the house as well.

They make sure to wash their hands as soon as they’re inside before making their way to the dining table.

They sit next to each other, as usual, eating with minimal conversation.

Once dinner’s over and Bill’s thanked Shirley for the amazing food, the sun’s starting to go down. Bill is about to leave when Leroy speaks up. 

“It’s snowing, no sense biking in this weather, son. Just stay here for the night.” He states, patting Bill on the shoulder, who nods. “Figured this might happen, the news has been talking about a blizzard all day.” Leroy continues, looking out the living room window. Bill nods again.

“Wanna watch a movie, since you’ll be stuck here for the night?” Mike asks, pulling Bill’s attention away from the snow. Bill smiles and walks over to Mike to check out the movies they have.

They end up picking out Ferris Bueller’s day off, which Mike slips from the VHS case and into the VHS player.

Shirley makes them popcorn, though Bill insists a thousand times he could just make it himself, and that she really didn’t have to go through the trouble.

Before the two teens know it, it’s just the two of them sitting in the living room as the movie plays. Occasionally they’ll stick their hand in their shared bowl of popcorn, though not often, as they’re still full from dinner.

About halfway through the movie, they happen to stick their hands in at the same time, causing their hands to graze together. Bill takes a chance at that moment, taking the bowl and placing it on the coffee table in front of them.

Mike watches him, a bit confused. But his heart skips a beat as Bill looks down at their hands, and laces their fingers together.

Mike makes the first move after that, placing his other hand on Bill’s flushed cheek. Both boy’s hearts are pounding loudly in their chests, hoping desperately the other can’t hear it.

Bill rushes forward, smashing their lips together. It’s a bit sloppy at first, until Mike finally gathers himself and actually starts kissing back. Their skin feels like it’s on fire everywhere, and their breathing is growing heavier, trying to breath, though they know they can’t.

Someone clears their throat, causing the boys to rush apart abruptly. Bill looks like a masterpiece to Mike, lips swollen and shiny with spit, breath a bit uneven. Mike’s sure he looks about the same.

Shirley’s standing in the doorway with more popcorn, smiling at the boys. “Glad you two finally sorted yourselves out.” She says, laughing a bit. Bill’s cheeks burn bright red, Mike’s burning as well.

Shirley places the popcorn on the coffee table, next to the half eaten bowl from before. She leaves immediately after, shooting a comforting smile their way.

Through the rest of the movie, Bill’s cuddled into Mike’s side. It feels like they’re puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. They share a few more kisses, mostly chaste, now shyer kisses.

After the movie Shirley lets the two know they need to get ready for bed. Mike takes his bedroom to change in, giving Bill a black shirt and some sweatpants to change into in the bathroom.

As Bill’s walking back to Mike’s room, Leroy corners him.

“Listen, Bill. I heard about you and Mike from Shirley. And I’m happy for you. But if you ever, ever hurt Mike, you’re becoming pig food.” Bill nods, wide eyed. “Y-Y-Yes s-sir, I would n-n-never hurt Mike.” Leroy nods, backing off a bit. 

“Remember, though, if you do, you’re becoming pig food.” Bill nods again, which seems to satisfy Leroy, because he’s soon walking off.

Bill walks to Mike’s bedroom, a bit shaken up. The door’s already open, letting him know Mike’s done changing.

He enters, and Mike can tell immediately something’s shaken Bill up.

A frown takes over Mike’s normally happy face, and he walks towards Bill, placing his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. “What happened?” He asks, concern clear in his voice. Bill smiles reassuringly to him. “Nothing terrible, but your grandpa threatened to feed me to the pigs if I hurt you.” Mike smiles, breathing out a laugh and dropping his hands from Bill’s shoulders. “Yeah, sounds like him.”

The two boys get into bed soon after, Mike shutting off the light before joining Bill in the bed. They lay in silence for a bit before Mike speaks.

“Bill?” The boy doesn’t answer and Mike wonders if he’s already asleep, until Bill’s turning over to face Mike. “Y-Yeah?” 

“What are we?” Mike asks. Bill takes a deep breath. “What d-d-do you want to b-b-b-be?” 

“Your boyfriend.” Mike responds, heart beating wildly in his chest for the second time that night. There’s another silence.

“Then I guess we’re d-d-dating.” Bill states, scooting over closer to Mike and wrapping his arms around Mike’s shoulders. “Let’s get s-s-some sleep now, okay?” Mike nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried my best with this one but i honestly i don’t like it very much. the lyrics at the beginning are from the song I Want To Hold Your Hand by The Beatles.


	10. Your Sweater

**_____**

We were by an archway

With flowers

Cascading round the roof

Standing under my winter coat 

To shelter us

**_____**

_ December 3, 1993 _

“So, any of you guys trying out for the winter talent show?” Beverly asks, breaking the peaceful silence that was wrapped around the eight losers as they walked down the sidewalk. She had asked it just as a general question, but Eddie knew it was directed towards him. She’s been trying to get him to try out ever since he started writing songs two years ago.

Ben’s the first to answer, shaking his head. “No, I’m not talented enough for that.” He answers. The others, save for Eddie, all answer with something along the same lines.

“What about you, Eddie? You’re being really quiet.” Mike asks, looking back at the hypochondriac. Mike’s holding hands with Bill, his boyfriend. He still wonders how the hell Bill would want to date him of all people.

“I’m gonna try out.” Eddie murmurs, shivering a bit. He’s layered up in as many layers as he could wear, because his mother had insisted upon it, but he was still cold. It wasn’t really a physical cold, more so one that was in his soul, one that chilled him to the core, a lonely cold.

Richie catches sight of the shiver, and almost offers Eddie his coat, until realizing he can’t do that, because he has a girlfriend.

“What are you gonna do? Rant about pills?” Richie jokes. He knows what Eddie’s gonna do.

Eddie shakes his head with a scowl towards Richie. 

“No, Dickhead, I’m gonna sing. I’ve been singing since freshman year.” Eddie retorts, shoving his gloved hands in his pockets. Every second feels colder than the last, but Eddie doesn’t know why.

“Y-Y-You sing? A-And you never told us?” Bill asks, looking over at Eddie, who just nods. “Yeah, I’ve honestly been kind of embarrassed about it. But who cares?” He asks, more of a rhetorical question than an actual one. Ben nods in agreement. “Yeah, we’re already losers, so who cares?” He says, a bit of his old lisp showing in his voice.

Eddie smiles, glad his friends aren’t making fun of him for singing. “Do you write your own music?” Stan asks. Eddie nods. “Yeah, I always have.” Stan nods. “Well, you should show us some soon, Eddie.” Elizabeth states, smiling at the boy. Eddie shrugs. “Maybe.” He says, and then they’re back in silence.

Eddie shivers again, catching Richie’s attention. He sighs and just decides  _ Fuck Elizabeth, she knows I’m gay anyway  _ and slips his coat off. He slips it onto Eddie’s shoulders, who blushes immediately. Richie doesn’t notice though.

“Richie, you really don’t have to do that, you’re gonna freeze.” Eddie states. Richie shrugs, unbothered by the fact that he knows goosebumps are already starting to sprout along his arms. “Looks better on you than me.” He mutters, and then they’re back in silence.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Later that day, as soon as Eddie gets home, Richie’s coat still wrapped around his shoulders, he writes a song.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

_ December 10, 1993 _

Before any of the Losers know it, it’s the day of the winter talent show, also known as the last day of school before winter break starts. 

Eddie’s standing in the wings of the stage, his guitar clutched tightly in one hand, and the back of the chair he’s going to perform in clutched in the other. His breathing is shaky, but he doesn’t reach for his inhaler. He’s currently watching as some girl does some random dance on the stage, and can see the other seven Losers seated right in the middle of the audience.

The song the girl’s dancing to ends, so she walks over and grabs her boombox before walking backstage. She bumps into Eddie’s shoulder as he does, causing him to almost drop his guitar. 

The drama teacher, and the only woman in the staff of the school that still insists on having this talent show, walks out on stage. She places a microphone down and taps it a few times to make sure it works before speaking.

“Alright, let’s give Betty Ripsom some applause!” She says, smiling widely at the audience. Nobody moves to clap, the only noise being heard is a sneeze from the back of the room.

Her smile drops and she awkwardly clears her throat. “Okay, well, next up is Eddie Kaspbrak, singing an original song of his.” She says before walking off the stage, towards Eddie. She squeezes him on the shoulder, and then she’s gone, just as quickly as she was there.

Eddie nervously walks out onto the stage, his heart pounding. He’s starting to regret all this as soon as the bright lights shining onto the stage basically blind him.

But all his fears go away as soon as he sees Beverly smiling widely at him, two thumbs up. He smiles at her as he sits and lowers the microphone so he can speak into it.

“This is Heather, a song I wrote in, like, a week.” He says into the microphone. He places his hand onto the strings of the guitar, starting to play the song.

“I still remember, third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you. Only if you knew how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than a blue sky. She’s got you mesmerized, while I die.”

Eddie takes a breath, closing his eyes as a few people walk out of the room. He’s bombing this. 

“Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were Heather.”

“Watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm ‘round her shoulder, now I’m getting colder. But how could I hate her? She’s such an angel. But then again kind of wish she were dead as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than a blue sky. She’s got you mesmerized, while I die.”

“Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were Heather.”

“Wish I were Heather. Wish I were Heather. Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were…”

Eddie opens his eyes as the song ends, smiling widely. His heart is still pounding in his chest as he looks at the audience. Most of them applaud, though he can hear a few comments of “Fucking faggot!” That he’s sure come from Bowers’ gang. But he’s not focused on anybody else, except the Losers.

Beverly’s smiling the widest, and clapping the loudest. Stan looks a bit surprised, but he’s not staring at Eddie, he’s looking at Richie, who looks like he’s about to puke. Elizabeth’s staring at Richie too, a smile on her face. Bill’s smirking at Eddie and clapping too, and Ben’s so lost in Beverly, with how happy she looks, he’s not clapping. Mike looks surprised, eyes wide.

The teacher comes back out as Eddie stands and drags the chair back to the wings of the stage. He was the last performance of the show, so he leaves immediately, making a beeline for the nearest door.

He’s soon out on the snow covered grounds of the school, his guitar hanging lazily beside him. He finally takes a hit of his placebo inhaler before sticking it back in his pocket.

He turns when he hears the door of the school open behind him and someone running down the stairs. Eddie can’t quite process it before someone’s slamming their lips onto his messily, and he knows immediately it’s Richie. If it wasn’t for the raven colored curls tickling his face, the it’d definitely be the taste of cigarettes and the strawberries Eddie had leant him earlier at lunch.

Richie’s pulling away a lot sooner than Eddie wants, but as Eddie tries to chase his lips, he’s being pushed away by a cold hand.

“Eds, why didn’t you tell me before?” Richie asks. Eddie opens his eyes, knees going weak with how angelic the trashmouth looks right now. His tears are shiny with tears that Eddie hopes are happy tears, and his messy curls that he needs to have cut are sprinkled with snow.

“I was scared, especially after you got a girlfriend.” Eddie murmurs, cheeks burning red hot after everything that just happened.

“She was just a coverup. I’ve loved you for years, Eds. Ever since you held an ice pack over the bruise on my arm that you gave me when you jokingly punched me because you didn’t realize I bruise so easily.” Richie states, smiling at Eddie.

The shorter boy doesn’t know how to respond, instead just sliding a hand behind Richie’s neck and pulling him into another blistering kiss. His gloved fingers play with the curls on the nape of Richie’s neck, his other hand sliding up to rest on Richie’s shoulder. Richie’s cold, ungloved hands slide down to rest on Eddie’s hips, bringing the shorter boy closer to him so that they’re flush against each other. The two boys have to bend their necks even more because of the height distance, but they could care less. After waiting so many years for this to happen, they’re going to kiss for as long as they can.

And they do just that, until Eddie’s pulling away to breath.

“Let’s get out of here.” He states, still breathing heavily. Richie nods, extracting his car keys from his hoodie pocket with one hand and slipping his hand into Eddie’s grasp with the other.

They drive to the quarry, or as close as they can get to it, which is still pretty far off the beating path. 

As soon as Richie’s putting the car into park, Eddie’s leaning over and connecting their lips. He soon slides into Richie’s lap, and the two make out for a bit before climbing into the backseat of the car, where layers are unlayered and windows are fogged from the heavy breathing of two teenage boys in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Eddie sang was Heather by Conan Gray, and the lyrics at the beginning are from The Way I Spoke by beabadoobee. i’m sure you can imagine what happened in the car, but that’s as smutty as it gets because writing ACTUAL smut makes me uncomfy.


	11. Christmas

**_____**

**It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you**

**Everything I do**

**I tell you all the time**

**Heaven is a place on Earth with you**

**_____**

_ December 25, 1993 _

Eddie shivers, pulling a gloved hand out of his coat pocket to knock on the Tozier’s front door. Snow glittered on the ground around the house, mostly untouched save for his footsteps leading up to the front porch. It had fallen last night, and Eddie felt oddly sentimental that his footsteps were the only print to show there was any life in the house. Every other house had footsteps leading around, or tire tracks from a car. 

The front door swings open, a tired looking Richie Tozier smiling awkwardly at his boyfriend. The awkward smile soon turns into a dopey, lovesick grin when his tired brain finally processes the person standing in front of him with flushed cheeks and probably at least three jackets on is Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie reaches up, wiping his thumb across the purple bruise under Richie’s eye from lack of sleep.

“Mom kept me up all night, she’s been having trouble sleeping. She’s in, like, a lot of pain.” Richie says, his smile dropping.

“How much sleep have you had today, Rich?” Eddie murmurs, hand falling from Richie’s face to interlock with one of the trashmouth’s fingers.

“Honestly, like two hours.” Richie murmurs, words slurring a bit from how tired he is. Eddie slips past him into the house and quickly unlayers.

“Have you opened gifts yet?” Richie shakes his head, closing the door behind him. “Nope, ‘twas waiting for you, sir spaghetti.”

Eddie sighs and smiles at Richie, unzipping the backpack he brought to pull out a small wrapped box. “Well, you’ll continue to wait until you’re actually rested. Go upstairs and take a nap, I’ll take care of Maggie for a while.” He states, smiling at Richie.

Richie hesitates. “Eds, you don’t have to-“ He’s cut off by Eddie holding a hand up. “I want to. Go get some more sleep, and then when you’re done napping we can open presents.” He states, walking off to the living room. Richie nods, though he knows Eddie can’t see him, and walks up the stairs to his bedroom.

Eddie smiles at Maggie, who’s sitting on the couch in the living room. There aren’t many presents under the tree, but he did catch sight of one with his name on it from Richie. He wonders what it is.

“Hey, Eddie. It’s good to see you.” Maggie murmurs out, voice weak. There’s a pang of hurt in Eddie’s heart, hearing how weak she sounds. He knows, deep down, she’s not going to last long. Another few months if she’s lucky.

He can also tell that despite how happy of a face she puts on, she’s in pain. She has to be, and he’s sure she’s tired. Her skin is stretched tight across her face, her whole body’s skinnier. Eddie’s sure he could wrap his fingers around one wrist and they would be able to touch.

“Hi, Maggie. How’re you feeling? Do you need anything?” Maggie shakes her head, waving Eddie off.

“Honestly, Eddie. Stop treating me like a doll. I’m fine.” She breathes out, voice a bit raspy. “Just want some company, please.” She continues, smiling a little at him. Eddie nods and takes a seat next to her.

“How’re you and Richie doing? He told me you two are dating now.” Eddie smiles at Maggie. “We’re doing good. Great, actually.” Maggie smiles. “He’s a lot happier now than I’ve seen him in years.” She states, looking down at Eddie. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Eddie nods, gently grabbing one of Maggie’s frail hands in his own. Her skin is cold, her hand as skinny as it could possibly be. Eddie’s worried if he holds it too tightly it could break right in his grasp.

“I won’t hurt him, Maggie. I love him.” She smiles at Eddie again. “He loves you too, ‘Spaghetti man.’” She says, laughing a little at the nickname she’s heard her son call Eddie so many times. 

Eddie sighs, exasperated, and glares at her. “You better be lucky you’re so weak right now, or I would totally wrestle you.” Maggie laughs again.

“I think you should save the wrestling for Richie’s bedroom.” She states. Eddie blushes bright red, embarrassed that his boyfriend’s mother knows they’ve had sex.

“Jesus Christ, he told you?” Maggie shakes her head. “No, but you’re two teenage boys who have been repressing your feelings ever since you were thirteen, it’s kind of a given what would happen when the secret’s out.” She states, laughing a bit more now.

“I honestly don’t care, just  _ don’t get STDs _ .” She states. Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs again. “Will do, Mrs. T. Will do.”

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Richie comes downstairs a few hours later, smiling at his boyfriend and his mother. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t completely gone, but they were lighter. That satisfied Eddie enough.

Eddie smiles back at Richie, waving the boy over to sit in between Maggie and Eddie on the couch. 

“Sleep well?” Eddie asks, smiling at his boyfriend. Richie smiles back, nodding. “Yeah, and I don’t feel like I’m about to pass out anymore, so that’s good.” Richie says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs as well, leaning over to grab one of the gifts from under the tree. He purposefully avoids his, decides to wait until all the other gifts have been opened for that one.

He reads who the gift is for, then hands it to Maggie, because it’s for her, from Richie. He hands Richie his present from Maggie, and grabs another, smiling a bit awkwardly at Maggie when he sees she bought him something as well.

“You really didn’t have to buy me anything, Maggie.” She shrugs, smiling at Eddie as she picks at the wrapping paper wrapped around the gift in her lap. “I wanted to.” She states, looking down and slowly starting to unwrap her gift.

Eddie unwraps his, quickly revealing a new watch, for all of his medications. He’s needed a new one for a while now, the other one getting extremely worn out, but never had the money for another one. And he wasn’t going to ask his mother for another one, because that would just be another thing she could hold over his head when he goes to move out to college.

He smiles at Maggie again, who’s now admiring the new earrings Richie bought for her. “Thank you, Maggie.” She smiles, not looking away from the earrings. “Of course, Eddie.” She responds, setting the earrings back in the box they came in and picking up the matching necklace to admire next. 

Richie’s holding a new skateboard that Maggie bought him. He could already tell what it was when Eddie handed it to him wrapped, because of the shape, but he still can’t wrap his brain around it. The skateboard isn’t just one of those cheap ones that cost like ten dollars, it was an expensive one from an actual skate store. He had mentioned to Maggie months ago that he had kind of wanted to start skateboarding, but never bought a skateboard, and had never thought she was actually paying attention.

Eddie picks up another gift, the one he had bought for Maggie, and hands it to her. He hands Richie his gift from Eddie as well, and finally grabs the gift from Richie to himself. 

He unwraps it quickly, just like he did with the watch, and gasps when he sees a walkman box. Inside is, obviously, a walkman.

“Richie, really? This is way too expensive.” Richie shrugs, reading the label on the mixtape Eddie gave him. “Not really, besides, Bev kinds of chipped in because I was short about five bucks.” Eddie huffs, turning the walkman over in his hands. “Still too expensive, you dickhead.” He mutters out.

“I’ve never heard of any of these songs.” Richie states, looking up from the mixtape. Eddie nods and smiles at his boyfriend. “That’s because they’re all songs I wrote. About you.” He states, grabbing the mixtape out of Richie’s hands. Richie grabs for it, but allows Eddie to take it.

“You’ve heard ‘The Other Side,’ ‘Lookalike,’ and ‘Heather.’ The others are ones you’ve never heard before.” Eddie states, reading over the label and then handing the tape back to Richie. “Cool.” Richie responds, placing the mixtape in his lap with his skateboard. 

“I think that’s all the gifts, boys. Wanna watch a cheesy Christmas movie?” Maggie asks. The two boys nod, Richie standing to grab the first Christmas movie he sees and placing it in the VHS player.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a few days since my last update, i've had a bit of writer's block recently, but hopefully it's gone now. the lyrics at the beginning are from the song Video Games by Lana Del Ray. also, i know this chapter isn't the best but it was just a bit of a filler.


	12. Stay Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s some soft friendship developments because why the hell not?

**_____**

**Spending the years together, growing older every day**

**I feel at home when I’m around you and I’ll gladly say again**

**I hope the encore lasts forever, now there’s time for us to spend**

**_____**

_ December 31, 1993 _

The eight Losers sit in Richie’s living room, the TV playing in the background as they chat amongst themselves. It’s five minutes until the ball drops and 1994 starts.

Eddie’s sitting on Richie’s lap on the couch, Mike and Bill next to them with their hands interlocked on Bill’s lap. Beverly and Ben are sitting on the floor, talking about some new book Ben’s reading at the moment. Elizabeth’s in the kitchen getting snacks and drinks for everyone, and Stan…

Well, Stan’s in the bathroom, crying.

He’s crying because he had always liked Bill. He loved Bill. And he was going to confess at some point, or at least he kept telling himself he was going to. Until he saw Mike and Bill enter, hands clasped between them. A lump had risen to his throat quickly, and he had excused himself to the bathroom, where he’s been for the past twenty minutes. And no one’s come to check on him yet. 

Maybe he is worthless.

If the Losers, his best friends, don’t notice he’s been gone for twenty minutes, does he actually mean anything to them? 

He’s broken out of his thoughts when someone knocks on the door.

“Stan? Are you okay? I can hear you crying.” It was the familiar, soft voice of Elizabeth. He could hear her comforting smile in her words, could practically see her standing in the hallway, fiddling with her fingers right now.

Stan sighs, quickly wiping his tears away. “Ye- No, actually. Not really.” He responds, voice cracking a bit. There’s a pause before she speaks again. “Can I come in?” Stan hesitates. Should he let her in? Let the newest member of the Losers and also the one that made fun of them in front of her friends to be popular for years until just a few months ago into the bathroom, to see him crying because he’s a faggot?

“Yeah, you can come in.” He speaks again, voice thick with tears. The door squeaks open. Elizabeth walks through, closing it slowly behind her in hopes of quieting the squeak this time around. It doesn’t work, but at least she tried.

“What’s wrong?” Stan shrugs. “Just… a crush.” Elizabeth nods. “I understand. Wanna talk about it?” Stan hesitates again, though not for as long this time around. “I like Bill, and he doesn’t know it because I never told him, but he’s with Mike and he never even told me until he came waltzing into the house with Mike earlier.” Stan explains, a few more tears escaping his eyes. Elizabeth nods and smiles sadly at him.

“Y’know, I actually like Richie, and the day I learned he didn’t like me, even though I pretty much already knew, hurt me a lot. Like, I sobbed for hours.” Elizabeth explains, smiling a little more. 

“I understand how it feels to have a crush on someone who doesn’t return the feelings. So, even though we’re basically polar opposites, we have that in common at least.” Stan smiles back at Elizabeth. “Yeah, at least we have that in common.” He repeats.

“And, honestly, I’m terrible at advice. But I do know that you need to wipe away those tears and come out and have fun with the Losers tonight. After that you can suffer for as long as you want. But tonight, just be a carefree teenager, okay?” Stan nods. “Yeah.” 

Elizabeth pats him on the shoulder and stands from where she was crouching in front of him. “I’m gonna leave you be while you freshen yourself up, but I expect to see you back out by the time the ball’s dropping.” She states before walking out of the bathroom. 

Stan sighs, standing as well and looking at himself in the mirror above the sink. He looks like a mess. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks are shiny with tears, his shirt is creased all over the place, and untucked in a few places, and his hair is the frizziest it’s ever been.

He knows he can’t fix everything in this small half bathroom, but he does what he can. And what he can do is splash water on his face and tuck his shirt back in. So that’s what he does before exiting as well, making sure to turn the light off behind him, and joining everyone else in the living room.

The ball is just about to drop as he takes a seat on the recliner chair, squished in next to Elizabeth, who shoots him a thumbs up and a smile. He smiles back before turning to the rest of the Losers and starting to count down.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2…”

On ‘1,’ Richie and Eddie, of course, kiss, and so do Mike and Bill. Ben reaches towards Beverly like he’s going to cup her face and kiss her, but at the last second he retracts his hands, shoving them under his thighs to control himself. Beverly frowns at him, but it very quickly turns to a smile as she watches everyone celebrate the new year with a kiss from their significant other and a shot from the only alcohol to enter that house in months, a freshly opened bottle of vodka. Richie, of course, doesn’t take a shot, but the rest of the Losers do.

It’s not long before some of them are slightly tipsy, some are drunk, and Eddie is completely wasted and trying to pull Richie into a messy, drunken kiss. Richie is, of course, pushing him away and repeating the same sentence over and over. “No, I’m not doing anything while we’re drunk.”

Every time that happens, Eddie’ll whimper and give Richie puppy dog eyes for about five seconds before trying again.

Beverly’s standing on the coffee table and dancing, even though there’s no music playing. Ben’s standing in the corner, holding the bottle of alcohol, because he’s the only one there other than Richie who is almost completely sober. Stan’s just watching everyone from the recliner, playing with a loose string on Elizabeth’s shirt sleeve. Mike and Bill, are, of course, making out.

“Guys, get a fucking room!” Stan shouts at them after a particularly messy makeout session. They pull away for a second, glare at him, and then exit the living room, hand in hand. He watches as they walk over into the kitchen and hope to God the only thing they’re doing in there is making out.

After a few hours, most of the Losers except for the sober ones, Richie and Ben, are passed out. Eddie’s sleeping in Richie’s room after he fell asleep trying to makeout with Richie, everyone else is passed out in the living room.

Ben sighs as he bends over to grab the TV remote off the floor of the living room and turns the TV off. He turns off the light as well, hoping that’ll help the passed out teenagers sleep better.

“Thanks for helping me clean up, Haystack.” Richie says, patting Ben on the shoulder as he walks past with two empty bottles of vodka. The Losers only had those two bottles, but when there’s six people drinking two bottles of vodka, they get drunk pretty quickly. Especially since three of those people are major lightweights.

“Yeah, of course.” Ben states, following Richie with an empty bag of chips. It was the last of the trash from the night, and the two were about to go to bed.

Richie throws the bottles away, taking the bag away from Ben and throwing that away too. They walk to the living room, Ben entering and starting to lay down about a foot away from Beverly when Richie speaks again.

“If you want, you could carry her to the guest room and you guys could share the guest bed. I could help lug her up the stairs if you need it.” Richie offers. Ben’s quick to take the offer, standing and carefully lifting Beverly.

Richie takes him to the guest bedroom, the room across from Richie’s room. He opens the door for Ben and smiles tiredly at him.

“Okay, there you go. Night, Haystack.” He says, closing the door and walking off to join Eddie in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County. The title is also from Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County.


	13. Love Of My Life

**_____**

**And all the roads we have to walk are winding**

**And all the lights that lead us there are blinding**

**There are many things that I**

**Would like to say to you, but I don’t know how**

**_____**

_ January 1, 1994 _

Eddie groans, squinting his eyes against the harsh sunlight streaming into Richie’s bedroom. He doesn’t remember anything from last night after his third shot, so he figures he must have gotten drunk.

He looks around, realizing he’s in Richie’s room, and quickly panics.  _ We didn’t do anything, right?  _ It gets harder to breathe as he lifts the sheets covering both teens. He sighs when he sees they’re both fully clothed, and he doesn’t ache like the last time they did anything.

It’s not like Eddie minds doing things with Richie, he’d just prefer not doing them drunk. He doesn’t really have a specific reason, he just doesn’t want to.

Eddie groans again, the pain in his head, right behind his eyes, finally kicking in again now that he’s not panicking anymore. He flops backwards, his head hitting the pillow he and Richie are sharing. Which just makes his head hurt even more. 

He winces, rubbing his eyes harshly with his fingers and keeping them closed. It doesn’t fully eradicate the pain, but it doesn’t feel like there’s a hammer pounding on his skull in sync with his heart beats anymore.

Richie stirs next to him, causing Eddie to freeze. As much as he enjoys spending time with his boyfriend, he doesn’t think he could take him today, with how much his head hurts.

And how much his stomach hurts.

He groans again, his hands now moving down to settle on his stomach, like that’s going to fix the pain and nausea that rests there.

Richie turns over, smiling tiredly at Eddie, who looks absolutely miserable. Richie’s smile drops to a frown when he sees the pained look on his boyfriend’s face, immediately reaching forward to bring him into an embrace, like that’s going to fix it. It’s not a tight embrace, Richie knows Eddie’s stomach hurts, and doesn’t want to make it hurt worse.

“What’s wrong, Spaghetti?” He asks into Eddie’s hair. Eddie wriggles a little in his grasp, but quickly gives up trying to escape, knowing it’s fruitless and will only make his pain worse.

“Head, stomach. Hurts.” Eddie mutters into Richie’s chest. “Lemme go.” He follows with quickly after. Richie almost thinks it’s a part of their joking until he looks down at Eddie, seeing he looks even more miserable now. He quickly retracts his arms, allowing Eddie to stand quickly, and almost fall over from the pain and the sudden stand, before bolting out of the room and into the bathroom.

Richie, of course, follows him, opening the bathroom door-after knocking-to see Eddie kneeling next to the toilet, and throwing up into it.

Richie kneels next to him, reaching over with one hand to wipe Eddie’s curly bangs away from his sweaty forehead and any other place he could possibly get puke on, and rub Eddie’s back soothingly with the other hand. He reaches out with one leg and pushes the door as far closed as he can, not wanting anyone to walk past and see Eddie puking up everything he ingested last night.

Eddie leans away from the toilet after a minute, leaning against Richie’s chest, his face sweaty and red. 

“Sorry, that was probably gross.” He mutters, smiling a little at Richie. The ravenette just shrugs, smiling back at him and reaching over to flush the toilet.

“Nah, it’s all good, Eds. I mean, I love you, so what’s a little puke matter?” Eddie pauses for a second. “You love me?” Richie nods, still smiling at Eddie. “Course, Spaghetti Man, how could I not? You’re funny, and smart, and have all the best comebacks to my jokes. And you’re great to cuddle, and you’re just so cute, cute, cute!” Richie states, reaching over and pinching Eddie’s cheek a little, something he hasn’t done in two years. It feels a bit foreign to be doing it now, but also familiar at the same time.

“I love you too, dickhead.” Eddie mutters. “Okay, well, let’s get out of the bathroom before the others come to puke out their guts too. You can go back to sleep or whatever, and I’ll get some Advil and I’ll make you breakfast in bed!” Richie states, helping Eddie stand.

“If you serve me fucking breakfast in bed when I’ve just puked my brains out, I’ll puke all over you next!” Eddie retorts, no real meaning behind it. Richie just laughs, but shakes his head. “Nah, it’ll make you feel better. Trust me Eddie, I’ve gotten drunk way too many times to count, so I know the best way to fix a hangover.” Eddie sighs but nods, allowing Richie to gently lead him back to the trashmouth’s bedroom and close the door behind them as they enter.

Eddie immediately lays down on the bed, watching as Richie walks over to close the curtains. Just like closing his eyes, it helps Eddie a bit, so it doesn’t feel like there’s a heartbeat in his brain, but he still hurts.

“I’ll be back soon, spaghetti. Just rest for a bit.” Richie states, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

☁☁☁

Eddie almost dozes off while waiting for Richie, just casually staring at the ceiling, and looking around a bit. He’s almost asleep until the door bursts open, Richie walking through with a tray of food, a glass of orange juice, and two Advil in his hands.

Eddie smiles at Richie, immediately making grabby hands at the Advil as soon as Richie’s within reaching distance. Richie chuckles, handing the Advil and the orange juice over.

Eddie chugs the orange juice, his throat feeling like sandpaper. Richie watches with a smile, poking Eddie in the shoulder and sliding the tray into his lap.

“You’ve got food, too. And that’s the last of the orange juice so you might wanna take it easy. Also, I’m not gonna take you to and from the bathroom if you have to pee with a pounding headache, so again,  _ take it easy _ .” Richie says with a laugh.

Eddie takes the glass away from his lips, smiling awkwardly at Richie. “Right, sorry.” He mutters, placing the glass on the tray and picking up his fork to eat the waffles Richie made him.

“No need to apologize, Spaghetti.” Richie states, sitting down next to Eddie, legs sprawled out in front of him, but ankles crossed.

Eddie eats pretty slowly, but he doesn’t want to upset his stomach again, so of course he does. And he only eats about half of a waffle before he’s handing the tray over to Richie, saying if he eats anymore he’s gonna puke. Richie nods and takes the tray with a smile, running downstairs to take it to the kitchen before joining Eddie again.

“Also, I kinda just ran the others off, so they’re gone, and we get the whole day to ourselves.” Richie states, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie smiles at him. “Whatcha wanna do, Eds?” Richie asks. “Um, cuddle right now, while the Advil kicks in, and then a movie when it finally does?” Richie nods, already sliding to lay down and laying the bed covers over himself. “Will do, Spaghetti Man.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some nice fluff before the angst, because I gotta have more coming. The lyrics in the beginning are from the song Wonderwall by Oasis.


	14. In My Head

**_____**

**Sometimes, I think too much, yeah, I always get so caught up**

**I’m always stuck in my head**

**I wish I could escape, I tried to yesterday**

**Took all the sheets off my bed**

**_____**

_ February 14, 1994 _

Richie jumps off his bike, walking towards Eddie’s window. Today is Valentine’s Day, but Eddie couldn’t come over to Richie’s like he was supposed to. He says Sonia’s starting to get suspicious with how much Eddie and Richie are hanging out, so he can’t hang out with Richie as much.

Richie’s okay with that, he completely understands. 

So here he is, climbing up the tree beside Eddie’s window. He hasn’t done this in about a month, because Eddie doesn’t really need Richie to come over every night now that he has the walkman. And Richie has to take care of Maggie a lot, too.

But it seems like she’s going soon, the doctors say she has two more weeks.

Richie hopes they’re wrong, that she’ll miraculously get better one day, though he knows they’re not wrong, they’re completely right, and Richie’ll be lucky if she can even make it for the next two weeks.

She’s gotten skinnier, which Richie didn’t even know was possible, and weaker. She rarely ever leaves her bed, and eating is almost completely out of the question. A lot of the time when Richie’ll walk past her bedroom, she’ll just be sitting on the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of her.

It scares Richie, knowing she’ll be gone soon and they can’t even really spend time together. He’s tried to get her to watch movies with him, but usually she’ll fall asleep or just lose focus halfway through. It’s not her fault, Richie knows that.

The window in front of Richie slides open, bringing him back to the present. Eddie’s standing on the other side, staring at Richie, a concerned look on his face. So clearly Richie’s been just sitting on that branch for a while, thinking.

“Rich, you okay? You were just sitting there.” Richie nods, climbing through Eddie’s window carefully. He’s not as clumsy as before, though still pretty clumsy, which is proven when he trips over the curtains and falls to the ground. Eddie winces at the loud noise, and the two sit for a moment, sighing in relief when neither of them hear Sonia coming.

“Yeah, sorry Spaghetti, ‘twas just thinking.” Richie answers, finally standing and closing the window. He slides his shoes and coat off, shoving them under the bed, like he always does, and sits next to Eddie on the edge of the bed. Eddie reaches over, rubbing Richie’s carpet burn from his fall gently.

“What were you thinking about?” Eddie asks, though he knows the answer. He knows Richie was thinking of Maggie, that’s all Richie ever thinks about.

“Mom.” Richie pauses, taking a deep breath. “The doctors says she has two more weeks at most.” He states, eyes watering a bit. When the doctors first told him that just a few hours earlier, his brain hadn’t really processed it. He was just now absorbing the information, and saying it out loud seemed to set it in stone, seemed to confirm what the doctors had said. Before, just hearing it bounce around his brain, Richie had hoped he was just imagining it, but now that he’s saying it, he knows that’s not true.

Eddie reaches over, gently rubbing Richie’s back with one hand, and placing Richie’s head on his shoulder with the other hand. Richie gladly allows Eddie to lead his head to Eddie’s shoulder, and doesn’t move once Eddie’s hand is gone and interlocked with one of his own, picking at the sharpie on his fingernails.

“It’s gonna be okay, Rich.” Eddie murmurs, though he knows that’s not going to fix anything. That’s not going to change the fact Maggie’s dying, that one day Richie’s gonna walk in her bedroom with breakfast but she’s not going to wake up, and Richie’s going to break, and Eddie’s going to have to pick up the cracked pieces of a shattered boy and try to glue them back together.

But there’s no way to completely fix something that’s been shattered, is there? 

You can glue the pieces back together, and roll it up in bubble wrap, you can paint over it to cover the cracks from the break, but the cracks will always be there. No matter how much glue or paint or bubble wrap you use, they’re never going to go away. 

“It’s not okay, though, Eddie! My mother is  _ dying _ , and I know you don’t know how that feels because you were too young to remember your father’s death, and you could fucking care less about your mother, but mine is  _ dying _ . She’s basically already dead, just laying in her bed all day.  _ She looks like a fucking skeleton, Eddie! A skeleton! _ And I just have to sit back and watch because it’s too late for her, it was always too fucking late!” Richie shouts, pulling away from Eddie. Tears stream down Richie’s face like a waterfall.

Eddie just flinches at the shouting, but takes it. He doesn’t try to fight back, doesn’t try to justify what he was saying, or say that he does care about his mother, because he doesn’t. If he were to walk into the living room one day and see she’s asleep, that her chest wasn’t moving up and down, Eddie wouldn’t care. Sure, it would hurt a bit, because she’s his mother, but he wouldn’t cry.

Before Eddie knows it Richie’s standing and throwing his shoes and jacket back on. 

“Richie, don’t leave. C’mon, it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry, I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t know what to say to someone whose mother is dying.” Eddie mutters, grabbing out for Richie’s hand. Richie pulls his hand away, walking towards the window. Eddie hears the floorboards creak outside his bedroom door, meaning his mom heard the fucking shouting and is coming to check on him, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about in this moment is making sure Richie doesn’t leave.

“I don’t care that it’s fucking Valentine’s Day, Eddie, I just need some space.” Richie murmurs, climbing out the window and shutting it behind him quietly. Eddie watches him climb down the tree, a few tears sliding down his face, but he doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away.

His bedroom door opens behind him, Sonia entering with a glare at her son.

“Eddie, what’s that noise? It’s one thirty at night.” She asks, walking over to her son and placing a hand on his shoulder. Eddie flinches, but doesn’t try to push her hand away like he normally would. He turns to face her, her hand sliding off his shoulder as he does.

“Just a nightmare, momma. You can go back to bed, I’ll be fine.” Sonia’s eyes widen, and she’s immediately scrambling over to the pill bottles resting on Eddie’s desk. “Do you need some sleeping pills? I’m sure I bought you some at one point.” Eddie shakes his head, walking over and pulling Sonia’s hand away from the bottles. “No, ma, I’m fine. Just go back to bed.” She stares at him for a moment before hesitatingly walking out, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Eddie walks over to his bed and flops down on it, placing his headphones over his head and listening to the special mixtape Richie had made for him.

On the other side of town, Richie does the same, laying on his bed, his body wracked with sobs. He listens to Eddie’s tape for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you more angst was coming, bet you weren’t expecting it already though, huh? The lyrics at the beginning are from Mind Is A Prison by Alec Benjamin.


	15. Runaway

**_____**

**Call my friends and tell them that I love them**

**And I’ll miss them, but I’m not sorry**

**Call my friends and tell them that I love them**

**And I’ll miss them, sorry**

**_____**

_ February 15, 1994 _

Eddie sighs as he walks through the front door, closing it behind him. It squeaks a bit, making him wince. He’s been kind of sensitive to loud noises after Richie shouted at him last night.

Speaking of Richie, he and Eddie are apparently not on speaking terms. Every time Eddie tried to talk to him, Richie would turn and walk away, or just flat out ignore him. Richie left after lunch though, Eddie’s sure of it, because he just completely disappeared after lunch.

“Eddie Bear! Come in here please!” Sonia’s voice calls from the living room. There’s a sickeningly sweet tone in it, meaning something’s wrong. Eddie’s sure he’s in trouble.

“Yeah ma?” He asks as soon as he’s in the living room, eyeing the notebooks in her hands. She’s glaring at him with a scowl, and Eddie recognizes the notebooks. One’s his drawing notebook, the other’s his writing notebook. So he knows he’s in really, really deep shit.

“So, after last night, I knew something was up because you never act like that after your nightmares. I did a bit of digging, and found these. I also found out that you’re a disgusting faggot.” She spits at him, throwing the notebooks at him. He dodges them, but bends over to pick them up as soon as they hit the floor.

“But it’s okay, because you’re just sick, it’s just a sickness.” She pauses. “I called one of my friends, he’s waiting in the kitchen. He’s going to fix you, Eddie Bear.” Eddie shakes his head frantically, his eyes not leaving his mother’s. “No, I-I’m not sick. You can’t-You can’t fucking fix me!” He shouts, eyes watering as he runs off and up the stairs. He knows his mother can’t catch him, and hopes that her friends can’t either.

Luckily, neither of them try to catch him, and he’s soon in his bedroom. He closes the door behind him, locking it as well for good measure.

He dumps out his backpack on his bed, not caring about his school supplies anymore. He can buy new ones, he just needs to get the hell away from this house. He needs to get the hell away from this fucking town, because he knows if he stays in this town he’ll be found quickly. If he leaves the town, it’ll be harder to find him. He’s going to New York.

Eddie tosses clothes in the backpack, just random outfits, a few pairs of underwear, socks, one of Richie’s Hawaiian shirts, and one of Richie’s hoodies. Luckily that’s all of Richie’s clothes he owns, because he knows he doesn’t have the heart to leave any of it behind.

He tosses his notebooks in as well, a few pencils to write in them with, his walkman, and the only mixtape he owns, the one Richie made him. He unbuckles his fanny pack, throwing it on the bed, but decides to keep his watch and inhaler. He throws the inhaler in his backpack, and disables all the alarms on his watch.

Before he knows it he’s climbing out the window and running, running as fast as he fucking can. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get to New York but he does know that he needs to get to Richie first. He needs to have Richie with him when he leaves, and if Richie can’t come with him, then he at least wants to say goodbye to his love.

☁☁☁

Richie sighs when he hears the doorbell ring, looking once at his mother, who’s sleeping, before standing from her bed slowly, so as not to wake her, and walking towards the door.

By the time he reaches the door, the bell’s ringing frantically, and Richie suppresses the urge to just fucking punch the nearest wall. He was trying to watch a movie with his mom, and he didn’t even get halfway through before this random ass person was ringing the fucking doorbell at four o’clock. Nobody ever comes over this late.

“I’m coming, I’m fucking coming! Stop!” He shouts at the door, and finally the ringing stops. He can hear someone sobbing on the other side, someone that sounds a lot like Eddie, but tries not to let it get to him. He’s been imagining Eddie everywhere since last night, and that just proves how much he loves Eddie. They don’t talk for one fucking day and suddenly he’s seeing Eddie everywhere, hearing him everywhere. He’s just fucking everywhere.

“Eds? What-What happened?” Richie asks as he opens the front door of his house. Eddie’s standing on his doorstep, a backpack slung over his back as well as tear stains littering his cheeks.

“I’m leaving, Rich. I can’t stay here. Mom found out. P-Please come with me.” Richie glances at the almost empty house behind him. “I can’t, Eds. My mom-“ Eddie cuts Richie off. “Your mom’s sick. I understand. Then consider this goodbye.”

“Goodbye Eds.”

And with a final, hurried kiss to the lips, Eddie’s gone, running down the sidewalk and into the night.

Richie stares after him, watching him until Eddie’s turning a corner and Richie can’t see him anymore. He regrets not leaving with Eddie for a split second, before reminding himself that his mother is sick, he can’t just fucking leave her.

He closes the door, turning and slumping back against it. He stands like that for a bit, he doesn’t know how long, though it feels like hours, until he hears Maggie’s faint voice calling through the quiet house.

“Who was it? Richie? I heard Eddie. Bring him up here, please.” He pauses for a moment. How’s he supposed to tell his mom that he boyfriend just ran away and he decided to stay here with his mother who’s going to die in, like, a week?

He sighs, pushing himself off the door and making his way upstairs to her room. She’s staring at the doorway expectantly, looking around like she’s going to see Eddie walking up behind Richie.

Richie enters, sitting down on the bed next to his mother awkwardly.

“Where’s Eddie?” Is the first thing she asks. Richie doesn’t answer.

“Richie, where’s Eddie?” She asks again.

“He’s- He’s gone, mom. He’s leaving Derry.” He responds, not looking at his mother. This time, he’s the one staring blankly at the wall in front of him, as though it’s going to entertain him somehow.

“He’s moving and he didn’t tell us before? I figured he would have.” Richie shakes his head, the gravity of the situation finally hitting him. Tears spring to his eyes.

“No, mom. He’s running away. He asked if I wanted to go.” Maggie watches him for a minute. “And did you?” Richie nods. “I wanted to, but I can’t leave you.” Maggie playfully, but weakly, punches her son in the arm. “You idiot, I’ll be fine. I’m going to die soon anyway. Do you know where he went?” Richie shakes his head, though he does know. Of course he knows. Eddie’s always wanted to go to New York.

“I think you do. You should go. Take the rest of the money and just… leave.” She responds. Richie shakes his head. “It’s too late, I don’t know where he’s going.” He lies, still not looking at his mother. She stares at him for a moment before looking at the same wall he’s staring at.

“Go to your room, Richie. I’m gonna take a nap.” She states, sliding down in the bed and closing her eyes. Richie stares at her for a minute before standing from the bed and walking to his room.

He lays on his bed that night, clutching the pair of red shorts Eddie left at his house after a sleepover, and cries. He cries himself to sleep, cries so fucking hard he’s sure Eddie can hear it all the way in wherever the fuck he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's finally happened! Eddie's gone! Now there's going to be a lot of depressing stuff. The lyrics at the beginning are from listen before i go by Billie Eillish.


	16. Wish I Could Rewind

**_____**

**So, I need to hear your voice**

**Know I’m standing here by choice**

**And I can’t hear the background noise, anyway.**

**_____**

_February 16, 1994_

Eddie squints his eyes at the bright sunlight shining in through the bus window he’s been on since last night. He had bought the first ticket they had to New York, and had fallen asleep an hour into the drive. Now, there’s only about two hours left, and he’ll finally be in New York. The big apple. 

He already misses Richie, and is starting to regret his decision. But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? Besides, he’ll write to Richie, and hopefully Richie’ll write back. Hopefully Richie will visit, or come to live with Eddie soon.

The bus stops, causing Eddie to look up. Someone, a boy with curly blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He looks around as he hands the bus driver his ticket, and once he’s allowed to sit down, he chooses the seat right next to Eddie.

Eddie internally groans. There are so many fucking empty seats and of course this dude has to choose the one next to him.

They sit in awkward silence for about ten minutes before the boy speaks.

“I’m Sam.” The boy says, sticking a hand in Eddie’s direction for Eddie to shake. Sam’s smiling at Eddie, showing off a chipped front tooth that Eddie kind of wants to ask about, but chooses not to. Sam doesn’t even know Eddie’s name yet.

“I’m Eddie.” He says, taking Sam’s hand and ignoring the voice in the back of his head screaming about germs.

“Eddie… Eddie Spaghetti!” Sam announces, smiling even wider. Eddie cringes, pulling his hand away from Sam’s. “Please don’t call me that.” He mutters, looking down at his dirty shoes. They used to be white, but while he was running last night it started raining, and he accidentally stepped in a few mud puddles.

“Oh, okay. I just like rhyming.” Eddie smiles sadly at the other boy. “Yeah, I had a…” Eddie hesitates. He’s probably never going to see Sam again, so fuck it. “A boyfriend that liked to rhyme too. He called me Eddie Spaghetti.” Sam’s smile drops. “Shoot, I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s whatever, just miss him.” He murmurs. “So, where are you coming from?” Sam asks, trying to change the subject. “A small town in Maine, called Derry.” Eddie responds. “Well, good thing you’re not lactose intolerant.” Sam jokes. Eddie laughs a bit, rolling his eyes as well. It’s a bittersweet feeling, like he’s hanging out with Richie again, though he knows he’s not. Richie’s still in Derry, this is just some random dude Eddie met literally three minutes ago.

“That’s a terrible joke, Sam.” Eddie states, rolling his eyes at the boy, who’s laughing at the joke as well. “Then why are you laughing?” He asks in a joking tone.

The two are silent again for a few minutes before Sam’s breaking the silence. “So, why’re you so far away from home, Eddie?” Eddie shrugs. “Long story, I’d really prefer not going into it right now.” Sam nods. “Okay, I respect that, I mean, we just met. I’m going back to my mom’s place. I usually go over to my dad’s house every other weekend but for some reason the earliest bus ticket we could find was for today, so I had to take some time off school.” Eddie nods, just listening to Sam ramble.

“So your parents are divorced?” Sam shakes his head. “Nah, they were never married. My mom kinda had me after a one night stand when she was nineteen.” Eddie nods. “She’s nice, though, and, like, never tells me I was a mistake or any of that shit.” Eddie nods again.

They chat for the rest of the ride, Eddie explaining to Sam eventually that he was running away from his mom, but he wouldn’t go into any further detail. He also talked about the Losers a lot, which of course caused Sam to talk about his two friends at his school.

The bus stops a few hours later, everyone standing and starting to get off. Sam stands to grab his dufflebag and Eddie’s backpack from the rack above the seats and hands Eddie his bag. 

“So, do you have anywhere to go? Like, family or anything?” Sam asks as they walk off the bus. Eddie shakes his head, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly in his hands. “No, I just kind of made an impulsive decision to come here, I’ve always wanted to live in New York.” Sam nods. “It’s a good choice, especially since you’re gay. New York is one of the most inclusive places.” Sam explains, starting to walk in the direction of his apartment. Eddie follows, not really knowing what else to do.

“See? No one’s even sparing a glance at them.” Sam says, pointing at a lesbain couple on the other side of the road, holding hands. “It’s pretty great here, though pretty expensive.” Eddie’s heart drops when he hears that. He only brought his savings, which probably wouldn’t even last a day here.

Sam seems to read Eddie’s mind, because soon he’s speaking again. “You could stay with me for a few days, I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind. We don’t have a guest room, but I have a bunk bed.” Eddie nods, though a bit hesitantly. He’s still not really sure if he can trust Sam, what if he’s a murderer or something?

“I can sense your hesitancy. You don’t have to, but please trust me. I swear, my parents don’t even own a gun or any actual weapons.” Sam reassures with a bit of a laugh. Eddie sighs, but nods again. “Okay, I’ll trust you.” Sam silently cheers a bit and breaks into a bit of a run. “C’mon, the apartment’s not far!” He shouts back to Eddie, who’s still walking. Eddie hesitates for a moment before breaking into a run as well.

They reach the apartment building after about five minutes of running. Sam leads him over to the mailboxes, unlocking one of them with the number 508 on it with a key and pulling the mail out of it. There isn’t much, only a few letters and a small package with the name ‘Deborah Cook’ written on it.

“Sorry, I’m always supposed to check the mail when I come back from my dad’s.” Sam explains, closing the mailbox and locking it back. Eddie shakes his head and waves Sam off. “It’s fine, doesn’t bother me.” He states, following Sam over to the elevator.

Sam reaches forward, pressing a button with the number five on it, before backing up to stand next to Eddie, leaning against the far wall and rifling through the mail.

“Just bills and crap.” He mutters, organizing them so that the bills are in one hand and the package is in the other. The doors to the elevator open, Sam leading Eddie out into the hallway. They pass a few doors, soon reaching apartment 508, the label on the door holding the last name ‘Cook.’

Sam fishes around in his pocket, pulling out a single key and handing it to Eddie. “Can you please unlock the door?” He asks, already pulling his hand away to shift the package, so as not to drop it. Eddie nods, reaching out to unlock the door. He opens it as well before moving to stand behind Sam, who smiles at him.

“No need to be nervous, my mom and her boyfriend are really nice.” Sam states, walking into the apartment. Eddie nods, closing the door behind him.

A woman who looks almost like an exact carbon copy of Sam walks out into the hallway from the living room, or at least Eddie assumes it’s the living room, because the familiar sound of a TV humming can be heard coming from that room.

“Hey, Sam! How was your dad’s?” She asks, taking the package from him. “Like it usually is.” He mutters sourly. She nods. “Sorry, hun.” She looks up from the package, smiling when she sees Eddie. “Are you one of Sam’s friends?” Eddie shrugs. “I guess? We met on the bus.” She nods, walking forward and extending a hand for Eddie to shake. “I’m Deborah, Sam’s mom.” Eddie nods. “I’m Eddie.” 

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. Are you staying the night?” Eddie shrugs again. Sam comes out into the hallway again from the kitchen. “He’s gonna stay for a while, he ran away from his mom.” Eddie nods, backing up Sam’s statement. “She was a bit of a bitch.” He murmurs, looking down at his shoes. Deborah laughs, a sweet sounding laugh, one that sounds like music to Eddie’s ears. Although, it doesn’t sound as good as Richie’s laugh.

“I understand having a bitchy mom.” She states. “Sam, show Eddie to your room please, so he doesn’t have to keep that heavy backpack on anymore.” She states, pointing around the corner. Eddie assumes that’s where Sam’s room is.

Sam nods, starting to walk and leading Eddie off around the corner and down the hall. It’s a fairly small apartment, one that reminds Eddie a lot of Beverly’s old apartment, only there’s two bedrooms, and the bathroom’s in between them. Sam’s bedroom and the bathroom are on the right side of the hall, with the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The left side of the hall is fairly empty save for a single door that Eddie assumes leads to a coat closet or something.

Sam’s bedroom is small, the only furniture being a bunkbed with a desk next to it, and a dresser on the wall next to the door. There’s a window above the desk that looks out onto the sidewalk Eddie and Sam were just on only ten minutes ago.

“This is it. I know it isn’t much, but it works.” Sam explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. He looks a bit ashamed that the apartment’s so small, that that’s all they can afford. Eddie shrugs, walking over to place his backpack on the bottom bunk of the bunkbed. “I’d rather have a small home with a good family than a big home with a shitty family.” Eddie states, looking around the room. The desk is fairly bare, save for a stack of books and a few notebooks, along with two pencils. There’s a few books on top of the dresser as well, just piled on it haphazardly. Eddie can practically see Ben cringing.

Sam smiles at the reassurance from Eddie, walking over and kneeling down in front of the dresser. He clears out two of the four drawers for Eddie, the bottom two drawers. 

“You can use these two for your clothes, and when you’re done unpacking you can come watch TV with us, if you want. Or you can just stay in here and hang out. If it’s okay with you, you can have the top bunk.” Eddie nods, smiling at Sam and turning to unzip his backpack. “Yeah, that works. Thanks Sam.” Sam nods, smiling at Eddie again before walking out of the room.

Eddie unpacks his stuff, placing his notebooks on the desk and his walkman and mixtape on his bunk. He leans the empty backpack against the desk, next to Sam’s backpack that Eddie’s sure is full of school supplies.

Once Eddie’s done he shuts the bedroom door to change, since he’s been wearing the same clothes since last night. He changes into Richie’s hoodie that he brought, which still smells like Richie, and a pair of sweatpants. A lump catches in his throat from wearing the hoodie, all he can smell is Richie, Richie, Richie. He smells Richie, sees Richie, hears Richie.

God, he misses Richie so fucking much.

He almost cries until someone’s knocking on the door. “Eddie? You okay? You’ve been in there a while.” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I’m great.” He states, his voice cracking a bit. He winces, though he knows Sam definitely heard it. But Sam doesn’t mention it.

“Cool, come meet my mom’s boyfriend. His name’s Frank.”

Eddie sighs, collecting himself before exiting the room and following Sam into the living room.

On the couch sits a man, the same man Eddie’s seen pictures of all around his house. The same man he thought was dead.

On the couch sits Frank Kaspbrak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, plot twist! It'll be explained next chapter, promise! Also, Sam's sixteen. The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Closer To You by Clairo.


	17. Without You

**_____**

**Somebody get me a hammer**

**Wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors**

**And go back to a time that was different**

**A time when I didn’t feel like there was something missing**

**_____**

_February 16, 1994_

“Eddie?”

“Dad?”

Both Kaspbrak boys shout at the same time. Eddie, once again, feels like he’s going to cry. Sonia told him Frank was dead, fucking _dead_.

“You-Mom told me you _died_!” Eddie exclaims, staring wide eyed at his father. He thinks, for a split second, that he’s hallucinating.

“Sonia told me _you_ were dead!” Frank shouts. Eddie shakes his head. “No, I’m alive. I’ve been alive. She said you died when I was five!” Eddie shouts back at Frank.

“We got divorced, Eddie. I never died.” Eddie shakes his head. “You had cancer, you died.” Frank shakes his head, standing and placing his hands on his son’s shoulders reassuringly. “No, I never had cancer. She said you had cancer and died.” Eddie shakes his head again. “No. I-I’m alive.”

Frank sighs, his hands dropping from Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie wishes they hadn’t, wishes Frank would just hold him. He wishes Richie were here to hold him.

“Jesus Christ.” Frank mutters, running a hand through his hair, the hair that almost exactly matches Eddie’s, just not as messy. Eddie needs a haircut, Frank doesn’t.

“Jesus _Christ_.” Frank repeats. Eddie looks away from his father to spare a glance at the other two people in the room. They’re both just staring at the exchange, not speaking, not moving. They have no fucking idea what to do.

The TV breaks the silence.

“Eddie Kaspbrak, a seventeen year old boy from Derry, Maine, has gone missing. He has curly brown hair and brown eyes, and was last seen wearing a yellow shirt with a car on it and jeans. The only suspect at the moment to know of Eddie’s whereabouts is Richie Tozier. If you see him, please contact your local police station.”

Eddie glances over at the TV to see a picture of himself, and a picture of Richie right next to it. The pictures are a bit outdated, but anyone would be able to tell it’s him if they were to see him in real life.

Deborah looks at the TV, then over at Eddie, then back at the TV. She does this for about a minute before her gaze finally rests on Eddie.

Eddie goes to speak, pleading for her not to turn him in, but she cuts him off before he can even say one word.

“Listen, I’m not gonna rat you out. Neither is Sam, neither is Frank. But if Richie rats, or any of your other friends, or someone just naturally finds you, I don’t know what to tell you.” Eddie shakes his head. “None of my friends would rat, Richie’s the only one that would even have any idea where I am.” Deborah sighs. “Well, still. I’m not helping if you get found, I can’t. I’ve got a record, kid.” She mutters, looking back over and changing the channel on the TV.

“So you ran away?” Frank asks, looking away from the TV as well. Eddie nods. “How else do you think I would have gotten here? There’s no fucking way in hell mom would just let me come.” Frank nods. “True. So, who’s this Richie kid?” 

Before Eddie can answer, Sam’s piping up. “Wait, is he your boyfriend?” Eddie glares at him, but nods. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” He mutters. 

Frank goes silent for a moment. 

“You’re gay?” Eddie nods timidly, hoping to God they’re not gonna kick him out over this. Frank nods, walking over to the couch and sitting back down. “Okay.” Hey says nonchalantly. Eddie breathes out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Come watch TV with us, if you want. Or you can go back to yours’ and Sam’s room.” Eddie thinks for a minute. Should he hang out with his new family? Or should he isolate himself and write songs or brainstorm letters to send to Richie?

He decides to watch TV with his family.

☁☁☁

Later that night, after watching a ton of cheesy comedy movies on the TV, Deborah eventually tells the boys that it’s time for bed, because Sam has school tomorrow and Eddie’s going school supply and clothes shopping with Deborah. 

So Eddie changes into his PJs in the bathroom, Sam taking the bedroom, and the first thing Eddie does as soon as he’s back in the bedroom, now still in Richie’s hoodie, which is starting to smell less like him and a clean pair of sweatpants, is climb up onto the top bunk of the bunkbed and grab his walkman.

Sam watches as he places his tape in the walkman and starts to place the headphones over his head.

“You sleep listening to music?” Eddie nods, taking the headphones away from his head. “Yeah, helps with my nightmares when I don’t have Richie to cuddle.” Sam nods, going silent for a minute. “Did your mom buy that for you?” Sam asks, referring to the walkman. Eddie shakes his head. “Richie did. He made me this too.” He explains, holding up the mixtape before putting it back into the walkman.

“That the only tape you’ve got?” Eddie nods. “Damn.” Sam mutters before turning off the overhead light and plunging the two boys into darkness, save from the light streaming in through the window above the desk.

“Night, Eddie.” Sam mutters, sliding into his bed. “Goodnight, Sam.” Eddie says back before placing the headphones over his head and pressing play on the walkman. The first song, Africa by Toto, starts playing. Eddie lays down, facing up at the ceiling. He just stares, and if he squinted, would be able to see the old glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, the ones that are so old most of them have fallen or been peeled off in moments of boredom from the guests of the bedroom, only about ten remaining.

It’s about halfway through the song when he feels that lump in his throat for the third time that day and curses mentally at himself. Why is he such a fucking crybaby? He’s cried three times today because he misses Richie.

God, he wishes he had never done this, but it’s too late to go back now. He doesn’t have the money, and by now it’s too risky. Everyone in the country knows he’s gone missing, seen his face, knows his name, even Richie’s name and face.

Before he knows it, he’s actually crying. Actual, real, salty and sticky tears are escaping the corners of his eyes and slipping down his face until they hit the pillow, the soft grey fabric of the pillowcase absorbing them quickly.

He sniffles, then feels a tapping on the frame of the bed. He wonders, for a fleeting moment, if perhaps the bed has gone unused for so long that now that it has weight on it it’s going to fall. Until he realizes Sam is tapping on the bedframe, trying to get Eddie’s attention.

Eddie pauses the song, pulling the headphones off as well, and speaks. “Yeah, Sam?” There’s a moment of silence before Sam speaks. “You really miss him, don’t you?” Eddie nods, though he knows Sam can’t see it, and hears Sam shift in the bed beneath him.

“God I miss him so much, Sam. It hurts so fucking bad. I should have never left. He probably hates me.” Sam sighs below me. “Eddie, if he’s your boyfriend and really loves you, there’s no way in hell he hates you, okay? Don’t feel bad, God knows what your mom would have done if you had stayed, because I’m sure if you ran away without even planning anything or saving anything it had to have been bad. And if Richie doesn’t understand that, then fuck him.” Sam states.

Eddie laughs under his breath. “Already did that.” He mutters jokingly, to which Sam laughs. “Just saying, okay? Don’t fucking feel bad.” Sam states. Eddie nods again. “Okay. Can I go to sleep now?” Sam laughs a bit. “Yeah.” He says, then the two are plunged into silence again.

Eddie places the headphones back on his head, pressing play on the walkman. The song changes to Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. Eddie’s breath hitches again hearing the song. This is going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So idk what to do now. Should I do a time skip to when Reddie meets again or should I continue to follow their lives? If I do a timeskip all the semi-important stuff that happens after this will be explained to each other when they meet, so you’ll really only be missing out on, like, details. Just lemme know what I should do please. The lyrics at the beginning are from the song i can't breathe by Bea Miller, the title is based on Without You by Avicii.


	18. College

**_____**

**Are you lost? Have you found yourself?**

**Will I ever get over you?**

**I hope I never get over you**

**Least I can say we tried**

**But your heart seems so tired**

**_____**

_ August 27, 1995 _

Richie sighs, pushing up his glasses as he does. His pointer finger grazes against the rough tape that was sloppily wrapped around the glasses after one of the many Bowers attacks. He hadn’t had enough money to fix them, so they’ve stayed broken for the past three months.

He was starting college, a year later than most of the other people he graduated with. Richie would’ve gone to college last year, when he was  _ actually  _ supposed to start, but he had to work to get enough money so he could go. 

He obviously didn’t have enough money for any loans he’d have, but he had enough to get by for now.

So, here he is, standing in front of New York University. It felt wrong for him to be here, at college, after wanting to be a comedian ever since sixth grade. But he knew this was Eddie’s dream college, and after not talking to the hypochondriac boy for the past year, he  _ needed _ him. He just hoped Eddie hadn’t found someone else.

God, what if Eddie found someone else?

He shakes the thought out of his head. If Eddie  _ has  _ found someone else, then Richie’s happy for him. If not, even better. 

But it will hurt if he has.

Richie’s shaken out of his head by someone, Beverly, walking up to him. He places a hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn away from the giant college in front of him and turn to her.

She and Ben had gone to this college as well. She came here to study fashion, and Ben came with her to study architecture since the two have been attached at the hip since they started dating two weeks ago.

It reminded Richie a lot of his and Eddie’s relationship. The same one he’s been so caught up on for the past two years that anytime anyone in the Losers even  _ suggested  _ trying to date again, Richie would immediately get angry and leave the room.

Eventually the Losers split, realizing Eddie leaving caused too much tension in their group. Beverly, Ben and Stan stayed friends with Richie, Bill and Mike went their own way together, and Stan and Elizabeth just split from the group completely. 

“Rich, you okay?” Richie nods, smiling a little nervously at Beverly. “Yeah, I’m good. Just, what if he found someone else?” Beverly pats him on the shoulder. “Then you’re gonna be happy for him, and you’re gonna try to move on, okay? But trust me, I don’t think he has.” She states, thinking back to the few times she’s seen Eddie on campus over the past year. He looked the same, only his hair is bleached, and he actually, surprisingly, looks like he embraces his gayness a bit more. He has ear piercings, and paints his nails. Other than that, he hasn’t changed. He looks desperate, like he’s waiting on someone that he knows-deep down-isn’t going to show up, but he’s holding out hope.

Richie takes a deep breath, grabbing his only suitcase with his right hand and starting to walk towards where he assumes the dorms are. “Then let’s go.” He mumbles. Beverly’s quick to follow after him after grabbing his only box off the sidewalk, not speaking, just walking about a foot behind him.

He enters the dorm building, and the woman at the desk tells him where his dorm is. It’s on the second floor, room 209. She tells him he has a roommate, but doesn’t say who it is, just goes back to scrolling through her phone as soon as she’s given him the minimum amount of information possible.

Richie sighs and walks to the elevator, entering and pressing the button for the second floor. “My room’s on the second floor too, right across from yours.” She doesn’t mention that room 209 has been Eddie’s room for the past year, that the only reason Richie’s his roommate is because his last one dropped out halfway through the year, and they hadn’t been able to find a replacement.

As the two wait for the elevator to reach the second floor, which actually happens really quickly but feels like an eternity to Richie, the trashmouth plays around with his tongue ring. He’s had his tongue pierced since his sixteenth birthday, when the Losers got slightly tipsy and Beverly pierced it for him. He had kind of regretted it the next morning, with how many lectures Eddie was giving him about infections, but he had always wanted a tongue piercing, so he enjoyed it more than regretted it.

The elevator stops and the doors slide open. A girl, one with long, braided blonde hair and green eyes, smiles awkwardly at the two and enters the elevators. They exit immediately after, and Beverly escorts Richie to his room.

“Here you are. Have fun, I gotta go work on a project now.” She states, placing the box down and hugging the ravenette before walking across the hall to her room. He unlocks the door, shoots a wave over her shoulder to Richie, and enters her room, shutting the door behind her. 

Richie takes another deep breath before fishing his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He swings it open, with a bit of trouble because one of his hands is still gripping his suitcase, but he manages. The room’s empty, but he can tell which side of the room is his roommates, because it has bedsheets, posters, and a walkman placed haphazardly on top of the unmade bed. The whole room seems to be a bit of a mess, Richie just guesses his roommate was running late to class that morning.

He walks over to the plain bed, placing the box and suitcase down on the floor next to it, and opening the box. Richie pulls out the old bedsheets he’s had for years, the simple space themed one. He’s had it since he was fourteen, and he’s kind of getting tired of it, but it’s all he’s got.

He quickly makes the bed, throwing his walkman on top as well. He unpacks his few shirts and jeans into his closet next, getting kind of depressed when he notices his wardrobe only takes up half of the closet. He quickly closes it, though, not wanting to get into an even worse mood than his constant overthinking has put him into.

He plops down on the bed, picking up his walkman and sticking one of his tapes into it. It’s the one Eddie made him years ago, the one he’s listened to so many times in the past two years he wonders how it still works. The rest of his tapes are left in the box.

He just lays on his bed for God knows how long, listening to the songs. Eddie’s voice is singing the lyrics “Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty.” When the door to the dorm room begins to unlock. Richie pauses the tape and takes the headphones off his head, ready to meet his roommate.

The door opens, and the talking out in the hall stops as soon as his roommate’s eyes land on him. 

There, in the doorway, stands Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie’s smile, that beautiful smile that used to light up Richie’s life, drops. Richie can’t quite distinguish the look on Eddie’s face, but he looks… angry. So fucking angry. And even a little bit… sad?

Richie’s breath shakes. Beverly didn’t tell him about this. She lives across the hall, she should fucking know that Eddie lives here. And she didn’t tell Richie, her best friend.

Eddie turns, whispers something to the people standing behind him, then enters the dorm room and shuts the door behind him. He walks over to where Richie’s sitting on the bed, and stops right in front of the ravenette. Richie’s hands shake with the urge to hold Eddie’s, to just grab them and hold them against his chest. 

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here, Richie?” Eddie spits, but he doesn’t look very angry anymore. Not to Richie. He looks depressed, disappointed, relieved?

No, no, that can’t be right.

“I-I knew you’d be at this college, Bev didn’t tell me  _ you  _ were my roommate, though. I-I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet, leave you alone for as long as you want. Please just don’t hate me.” Richie mutters, lip quivering a bit. He hasn’t cried since his mom’s funeral, hasn’t been vulnerable around anyone since that day either. This is new territory for him, something he wouldn’t usually do. He doesn’t really care at the moment, though.

Eddie’s face softens, immediately going into overprotective boyfriend mode even though they’re not dating anymore.

“Hey, hey, I don’t hate you. I’m not even really angry at you. Not anymore. Please just stop crying, I’ve never been good with feelings.” Eddie laughs a bit. Richie does as well, a wet laugh.

“Sorry, I’ve just been in a mood today, and seeing you… God I fucking missed you, Eds.” Eddie smiles at Richie. “Yeah, I missed you too. But I think, right now, you need some sleep or something. There are these fucking giant eye bags under your eyes, Rich.” Eddie states, almost reaching out to wipe his thumb across his eyebags, but stops himself. They’re not even really friends anymore.

“Yeah, I haven’t really been sleeping well. I’ve been stressed, preparing for college.” Eddie nods, sitting down on his bed, opposite Richie. “I get it, college is a lot. Just sleep. I’ll try to be quiet, I have to clean though, so good thing you’re a heavy sleeper.”

Richie nods, smiling a bit. “M’kay, night night, Spagheds.” Richie murmurs, closing his eyes. 

Eddie sits awkwardly on the edge of his bed. As soon as he hears Richie’s soft snores, he gets to cleaning. He doesn’t take long, due to being so clean for so many years, he’s just gotten so good at cleaning things. Then, as soon as everything is clean, he slips out of the dorm, keycard in the pocket of Richie’s old hoodie that he’s been wearing all day.

He goes to Sam’s dorm and knocks on the door, hoping Sam’s trashy roommate doesn’t answer. He hopes Sam is even  _ there _ .

Luckily, Sam’s the one to open the door with a surprised look on his face. 

“Eddie? We literally just hung out.” Sam states, scanning the boy for any signs of distress. He doesn’t see any, but he knows something must be wrong with Eddie if he’s already back after telling the others they needed to leave as soon as he got to his dorm room and opened the door. He had looked panicked, and Sam wonders what could have happened with Eddie’s new roommate  _ already _ .

“Richie’s my roommate. And-and he’s fucking acting like nothing even really happened. He’s the same, Sam. I can’t handle seeing his face again, I never thought I would see him or talk to him again-” Sam cuts off Eddie’s rambling. “Eddie, it’s going to be okay. Deep breaths, okay? What happened with Richie?”

Eddie takes a few deep breaths. “Nothing happened, it’s just overwhelming seeing him again, Sam. All those memories with him that I kind of just… repressed are flooding back. It’s… God, Sam. My heart aches so bad.” Eddie explains, shaking a bit. “You need to talk to him, Eddie. You two need to talk, get everything that’s happened these past two years out in the open. And then, you two are gonna try to be friends. I know you want to, but do not, I repeat,  _ do not _ jump into another relationship with him. You two need to get back to the dynamic you used to have. And you can’t do that without first getting everything out.” Sam explains, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorway. Eddie catches a glimpse of the trashy Lewis Webb, Sam’s roommate and known stoner of the school and also the trashiest person Eddie’s ever met.

Eddie sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay. I can do that.” Sam nods, smiling at the boy that has become basically a brother to him over the years. “Then go get your man. And I do not mean have sex!” Sam states, patting Eddie on the shoulder. He stands straight, starting to back into his dorm room, and Eddie can tell he wants to be left alone now. “Okay, I get it, I’ll leave. Thanks for the advice, Sam!” Eddie pulls Sam into a quick hug before starting to walk away. Sam waves at him as he walks away then shuts the door of the room.

Eddie paces the hall outside his room for a bit until he’s gotten enough weird stares to finally will himself to enter the room. Anxiety pools in his stomach, but he ignores it. Richie’s probably still going to be asleep, which will give him a bit of time to plan what he wants to say.

Except, Richie’s not asleep, he’s currently awake and looking at the various posters Eddie’s hung on his side of the dorm room. Eddie sighs when he sees it, even more anxiety adding to the already resting anxiety when he realizes he won’t be able to plan anything now. He’s just going to have to fucking wing it and hope it works, he guesses.

“Hey, Richie. I think we should talk about, y’know, the last two years.” Eddie murmurs awkwardly, sitting in the same place on his bed he was sitting on just an hour earlier. Rihcie nods, sitting down on his bed, across from Eddie.

“Um, Sam, my brother, well, he’s basically my brother, he said we should get everything that happened out in the open.” Eddie continues, not looking at Richie, because suddenly his hands have become very interesting.

“I’ll go first, if you want.” Richie says, looking down at Eddie’s fumbling hands. Eddie nods, but still doesn’t look up. “Okay.”

“A lot happened, actually. Um, literally like two days after you left, mom died. Over those last two days, she was constantly nagging me because I didn’t go with you. Made me regret letting you go a lot more than I already did. She had a small funeral, and after that I sold our house. I moved in with Bev, because even though I sold that house I wasn’t gonna go spend the very little money I got off it on an apartment or something. I’m saving up, at the moment.”

“I got a job to help save money, stayed in Beverly’s guest bedroom because they really didn’t have guests after you left, except Ben, Stan, and Rosie’s girlfriend at the beginning stages of their relationship. She’s moved in, now, though.”

Eddie looks up from his hands to interject quickly. “Why didn’t the other Losers ever come over?” He asks. “The Losers broke up about a month after you left, Eds. The gap you left was too big.” Eddie’s heart aches, a sharp sting shooting through it to add to the ache. He really caused that much pain?

“God, I should have just stayed. Went through with whatever the hell my mom was gonna do.” Eddie mutters, running a hand through his hair. Richie quickly shakes his head, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie’s free hand, though he knows he probably shouldn’t. “Eds, don’t say that. God knows what she was gonna do. You might have died if you have stayed.” Eddie nods, looking almost like he doesn’t enjoy Richie’s hand grasping his. But he doesn’t make a move to pull his hand away, nor does he interlace their fingers. He just stares at their hands. 

“So, yeah, after that, I finished high school, then took a year off working at the pharmacy because it was the only place that was hiring in that shit hole, because I needed money to help save up. Beverly went ahead and came here, to this college. I don’t know why she chose this one. Maybe because she knew I was gonna come here to try to find you? She never told me, but it’s something she would do.” Eddie nods in agreement. It’s something Beverly would one hundred percent do for one of her friends.

“And now I’m here.” Richie finishes, taking a deep breath. Eddie opens his mouth, like he wants to speak, before shutting it again. He does that a few more times until he finally works up the courage to actually ask the question he’s wanted to ask Richie ever since the trashmouth called him two months after he left and broke up with him, also breaking him.

“Did you find anyone else? Try to move on?” Richie shakes his head, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “No, I never found anyone else. I, I did try to move on, only twice. Once with a boy named Connor, but we never even got past the first date, and another time with Stan, actually. He came out as bisexual, but we never even kissed. I think we both knew our feelings were platonic and we were just lonely. We were touch starved.” Richie pauses, and Eddie almost speaks until Richie beats him to it.

“He found a girl at his college, her name’s Patty. She seems nice, from the things Stan’s said, but we haven’t met yet. He’s gone to Georgia, and at the moment he’s too busy to come all the way back up here.”

Eddie nods, smiling a bit. “I’m happy for him. How are Mike and Bill?” Richie sighs, almost leaning away from Eddie until he feels the smaller boy tug on his hand. He leans back towards Eddie, grasping his hand a bit tighter. 

“They’re doing great. They had a bit of a break when Mike found out a girl named Audra kissed Bill, but they quickly made up, cuz Bill didn’t like her back.” Eddie nods again. “I’ll explain now, I guess.”

“I met this boy on the bus to New York when I left, named Sam. He offered me a place to stay, and at first I was hesitant, but he pretty quickly became a brother to me. His mom, Deborah, she’s really nice, but she actually died in a car crash. She was like a mother to me. And, actually, her boyfriend was my dad. He was never dead, he just never made a move to meet me because Sonia told him I was the dead one. But we quickly created a bond, and we talk all the time. I visit him all the time, too, because he only lives thirty minutes away.”

“I never really tried to move on after you. There were boys that asked me out, but I turned them down. I was heartbroken, I listened to your mixtape all the time, wrote letters for you that never got sent, wore those two articles of clothing of yours that you gave me constantly. I wore them until they started to stink, and then I’d wash them as soon as I could and then I was wearing them again.”

Eddie reaches down with his free hand and begins to fumble with the hem of the hoodie he’s wearing. “This is yours.” He murmurs, hand quickly dropping away from it. “I haven’t changed much, not a lot happened. I made some new friends, but I lost contact with all of them except Sam’s girlfriend Crystal, and she’s nice, but she obviously just wants to hang out with Sam. We don’t get along very well because I’m gay.”

Eddie breathes kind of shakily, but his breathing is quick to even out, Richie notices. “I really started to embrace my identity not long after moving in with Sam. I don’t crossdress much, it’s not really my thing, but sometimes I’ll wear a skirt because they’re flowy. I bleached my hair one night after getting high on Sam’s edibles that I did not know were edibles until it was too late. And I got some ear piercings, cuz even though I’m pretty sure my mom’s dead, I just really wanna rebel.” Eddie laughs a bit.

“That’s all that really happened. But, I missed you. A lot.” Richie nods, moving just slightly closer to Eddie. “I missed you too.” There’s a silence. Richie makes an impulsive decision and goes in for a kiss. Eddie’s quick to pull away, just when their lips are about to touch.

Richie awkwardly backs away, to the far wall of the bedroom, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, just trying to put as much space in between him and Eddie. 

“Listen, Richie. I want to kiss you, I do, okay? But last time I think we took it a bit, well, fast, and I don’t want to take it that fast again, okay? Let’s just stay friends for the time being, and then we can go on some dates and stuff in a few months, okay?” Richie nods, taking one hand off his legs to run it through his already messy hair. “Sorry, Eds.” Eddie shakes his head, wanting to reach forward and drag Richie into a hug. Instead, he pulls farther away. They can’t move that fast.

“It’s okay, Rich. You don’t need to apologize.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, since nobody responded to the note on the last chapter I just decided to go ahead and skip to when they meet again. It's kind of a long chapter, but I literally don't know how I could have split it into more than one, so you get this three thousand word chapter. I DID NOT try to feminize Eddie, either, I was just trying to make it seem like he was really trying to rebel against his mom, y'know? The lyrics at the beginning are from Everything I could Never Say To You by lovelytheband.


	19. Letters

**_____**

**I wish that you could see the pain that I’ve seen and**

**All of the times I spent being not me, I**

**Hope you know that it’s not always happy in my head**

**_____**

_ August 28, 1995  _

“Beverly, I swear to God I’m going to kill you! Why didn’t you tell me  _ he  _ was my roommate?” Richie asks as soon as Beverly opens the door to her dorm room the next morning. The tension in Richie and Eddie’s dorm had been thick after Richie tried to kiss Eddie, no matter how much they tried to ignore it and act as normal as possible. It was clear Eddie still felt kind of angry at Richie.

Beverly laughs a bit, but her smile drops as soon as she sees Richie’s serious face. “I knew you would be too much of a coward to enter that room if you knew, Richie.” The ravenette sighs, leaning back against the wall next to the door. Beverly walks out of the dorm room, shutting the door behind her. They were going to walk together to their first class of the day, like it’s high school or something, because their classes are close together.

“Fuck you, Bev.” She laughs a bit. “How’d it go with him?” She asks, walking down the hall. Richie, of course, follows. “I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away and told me this time around we need to take it slow because last time we moved way too fast.” Richie explains, reaching forward to press the button for the elevator. “Well, I don’t blame him. You guys literally had sex right after he confessed his crush on you.” Beverly states, smiling a little. “Do you think he regrets dating me?” Richie asks, looking over at Beverly. He has to look down a bit to actually be able to look at her, because he’s five foot ten and she’s just barely five foot.

“No, I don’t think he does. I don’t think he’s lost feelings either, you just hurt him. He needed you, y’know, to go with him, and you chose not to and to break up with him over a phone call. I’d be a bit hurt too.” Beverly states. The elevator dings in front of them, the doors sliding open. They enter the elevator and Beverly reaches forward to press the button for the first floor.

Richie nods, taking in everything Beverly’s telling him. “You’re sure? I don’t want him to feel obligated to date me if he doesn’t like me anymore, I want him to be happy.” Beverly sighs, turning to Richie and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Richie, even after you broke up with him he continued to send you letters, he loves you so much.” Richie turns to look at Beverly, brows furrowed. “He did?” She nods. “But I never gave them to you because you told him you thought it would be better if you two stopped talking.” She states.

“But if you wanna read them, I’ll give them to you. They’re in a shoebox under my bed.” She states, smiling up at Richie. The elevator stops, the doors sliding open. Beverly exits the elevator, smiling at the boy waiting to enter. Richie shoulders past the boy as well, not even really acknowledging his presence.

The two stay in relative silence after that, waving bye to each other when Beverly reaches her class. The thought of the letters Beverly mentioned doesn’t leave Richie’s mind all day.

☁☁☁

After classes, Richie goes back to his dorm. Eddie’s not back yet, which Richie knew would happen. Eddie’s classes didn’t end until two hours after Richie’s did. They started a bit later than Richie’s as well, which is something Richie thinks isn’t fair. Eddie loves waking up early, Richie hates it. 

Richie decides to go ahead and start working on one of the assignments his professor gave him, pulling out a notebook and his textbook for the class. He’s just about to start making his way to the library when there’s a knock on the door.

He opens it to see two people. Beverly, holding a shoebox that Richie knew came with the Doc Martens she’s currently wearing, and a boy, the one Richie saw waiting for the elevator this morning.

Beverly hands Richie the shoebox, shoots him an awkward smile, then walks away. No words are exchanged.

Richie turns to face the boy next, shifting the box in his arms so it doesn’t fall. 

“Hey, you’re Richie, right? I’m Sam, Eddie’s basically brother. Can I come in?” Richie nods, moving out of the way of the door to allow Sam in. Sam immediately makes a beeline for his brother’s bed, plopping down on top of it. Richie closes the door, sitting down on his bed across from Sam and placing the box of letters next to himself. He’s getting deja vu from last night, when he had that talk with Eddie.

“What’s in the box?” Sam asks, pointing to the shoebox resting next to the trashmouth. Richie pushes the box behind himself, glaring at Sam. “None of your business.” Sam nods, raising his hand in surrender, a smile playing at his lips. “Okay, no need to get all defensive. I just wanted to meet my brother’s roommate, and ex.” Sam states. “Right, well, you’ve met me, so leave now.” Richie states. Sam sighs, scanning Richie where he’s sitting on the bed. Richie suddenly feels self conscious under Sam’s gaze.

“Okay, fine, I get it. Anyway, I’m in room 211, so feel free to come by anytime.” Sam states, winking at Richie and standing from the bed. “Bye.” Richie mutters, watching Sam exit the room. He waits to hear footsteps walking away from the room until he reaches behind himself and grabs the box of letters.

He opens the old, tattered box. The older looking letters are on the top, and Richie can tell Beverly clearly organized them in order from oldest to newest, so he could start them from the beginning.

Richie picks up the oldest letter, opening the envelope and pulling out the notebook paper. He unfolds it, almost sobbing at seeing Eddie’s familiar handwriting.

**_Dear Richie,_ **

**_I know you said you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, but I can’t handle it. Not talking to you is absolute torture. Especially knowing your mom’s just died, and… and after what just happened with Sam. I’m not gonna talk about it, though, it’s dumb for me to be upset about it._ **

**_Why did you do it? Why did you break up with me? You told me you still love me, so why did you break up with me? I still love you, and dealing with this breakup, God it hurts so much._ **

**_Have you been listening to your mixtape I made for you? I put a lot of effort into those songs and making that mixtape. I never knew making a mixtape could be so difficult._ **

**_I listen to my mixtape every night, when I’m going to sleep. I always sleep in that hoodie you gave me too. You know, the one with The Rolling Stones’ logo on it? Your favorite hoodie? I wear it almost all the time. On the days it’s too hot for the hoodie I wear the Hawaiian shirt._ **

**_I guess I should stop, though, huh? I should move on? It hurts too much to try, even though I know I should._ **

**_Um, I have to go now. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, I’m sure you’ll probably just throw it away, so don’t feel obligated to reply, but I love you._ **

**_Love, Eddie_ **

Richie looks up from the letter, allowing a few tears that he was trying to hold back to fall. It hurts, knowing how much Eddie missed him. Knowing how much he hurt Eddie.

The door of the dorm room unlocks, a small hand opening it. Richie knows immediately it’s Eddie, and scrambles to throw the letter in the box and shove the box under the bed. Eddie isn’t looking at him, is too busy pulling his bag off his back and throwing it on the ground.

He finally looks up at Richie as he walks over to his bed. Eddie sits down on the bed, starting to untie his shoes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks Richie, eyeing the tears staining his cheeks, making them shiny. “Nothin’” Richie murmurs, wishing he had’ve had a bit more time to clean himself up before Eddie came back.

“Something’s wrong or you wouldn’t be crying.” Eddie states, pulling his shoe off and beginning to untie the other one.

“I was reading the letters you sent me after the breakup. The first one you sent me.” Eddie looks up at him, using his free foot to slide the shoe off the other.

“You kept those?” He asks, sliding up to lay down on his bed. Richie shakes his head. “Beverly kept them, never even told me you were sending them. This is the first time I’ve read them.” He explains, leaning back to lay down on his bed as well.

There’s a silence between the two for a moment. 

“What happened between you and Sam? Fight or something?” Eddie takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “No, um, I don’t really know how to explain what happened.” Eddie mutters. Richie shifts to face Eddie, who looks like he might cry.

“Just say it, or you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable.” Richie states. Eddie takes another deep breathe. “He’s done some things to me, I-I don’t…” Eddie pauses. “Does he hit you? I swear I’ll beat his ass if he does.” Richie states. Eddie shakes his head again. “No, um… He… He raped me.” Eddie murmurs, picking at his nails. 

Richie’s blood boils. “How many times?” Eddie looks up at him. “What?” He asks. “How many times?” Eddie shrugs. “A few times… Maybe, like, ten? Until he got a girlfriend. It’s not… It’s not a big deal.” Eddie mutters.

“Eds, are you fucking kidding me? Of course it’s a big deal! He fucking forced you into doing that shit when he’s basically your brother!” Eddie shrugs again. “Richie, it’s not a big deal.”

“Is that why you wanna take things slow? Does… Does affection or relationships make you remember what he did?” Richie asks. “I mean, I never forget it, it’s always in my brain. But, things like that, kissing, that shit, makes it worse. Makes the memories worse.” Eddie explains. Richie stands from his bed, walking over to Eddie’s and sitting on the edge of it.

“Is it okay if I lay here?” He asks. Eddie hesitates, but nods. Richie lays down gently next to Eddie, reaching out to Eddie. The smaller boy looks down at Richie’s arms, slowly moving towards them to allow Richie to cuddle him, like when they were teenagers.

“I don’t really know what to say, because I’ve never been through that. But I promise I won’t ever let him hurt you again, okay? And we can take as much time as you need.” Richie states, closing his arms around Eddie and pulling him closer. Eddie buries his head in Richie’s chest, tangling their legs together as well.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake a bit, and Richie can feel a damp spot growing on the front of his shirt. He doesn’t say anything about Eddie crying, only squeezes him impossibly closer, removing one hand from Eddie’s torso to play with his hair.

They lay like that for seconds, minutes, hours. God knows how long they stay in each other’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a few days to update again, I've been a bit busy and I've had a bit of writer's block again recently. Also, Sam's not as good of a person as we thought, huh? Yeah, sorry but kinda had to add a bit of a plot twist. The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Trying My Best by Anson Seabra.


	20. Impatient

**_____**

**Put your head on my shoulder**

**Whisper in my ear, baby**

**Words I want to hear**

**Tell me, tell me that you love me too**

**_____**

_ September 5, 1995 _

There’s a knock on the dorm room door, causing Richie to sit up abruptly. He had been having trouble sleeping all night, and was just about to doze off again when the knock had sounded through the room. 

He looks over at Eddie, making sure the knock hadn’t woken up the hypochondriac. Luckily, the smaller boy was still sleeping soundly on his bed. Richie sighs in relief and feels around his nightstand for his glasses, slipping them onto his face gently before standing and making his way to the door.

Beverly’s standing in front of it, hair still a bit messy from sleep and her pajamas still wrinkled. She’s smiling, though, so Richie can tell she’s not here this early in the morning because something is wrong, which is a relief. It’s been so long since he’s really had to comfort anyone that Richie isn’t sure he knows how to anymore.

“Bev, what the fuck? It’s, like, eight o’clock in the morning.” Richie asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. By now he should be used to waking up early, but he doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays, so he’s really not.

“There’s gonna be a party later today, and you and Eddie are coming.” She states, poking Richie in the chest. Richie runs a hand through his messy hair, sighing while shaking his head. “No, Bev. You know I hate parties.” He states, staring tiredly at her. The sleepy fog in his brain is just now leaving, his thoughts are finally becoming coherent, and she hits him with a fucking party.

“C’mon, Rich, please! You’re gonna enjoy it!” Richie squints at her. Does she not remember that the last time they went to a party he accidentally, drunkenly cheated on his at the time girlfriend?

She watches him with puppy dog eyes, knowing after the years of living with the trashmouth that he can’t turn down puppy dog eyes.

Richie sighs again. “Rich, who is it?” Eddie’s voice asks from behind him, causing Richie to internally curse himself. “It’s Bev, she’s trying to convince us to go to some party tonight.” Richie answers. “And she’s already convinced you.” Beverly tauntingly whispers to Richie, who nods. “Yeah, she’s already convinced me.” Richie states, running a hand through his tangled hair again and wincing at the pull of the knots on his fingers.

“Oh, that party Benji’s throwing? Yeah, I already said I was going.” Eddie states, sleep thick in his voice and his brain. He ignores the bad feeling that settles in the pit of his stomach when Richie says he’ll be going to the party, pushing it off as anxiety for going to a party with Richie and having to watch him most likely drunkenly make out with some random person.

“Cool! See you guys at the frat house at seven!” Beverly exclaims, smiling at Richie before walking off down the hall. Richie closes the door, slumping back against it and sliding his hands under his glasses to rub at his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, I hate parties so much and she fucking knows that so why is she making me go?” He mutters under his breath, completely disregarding that Eddie’s in the room as well.

“Maybe she just wants to help you have fun like everyone else in college.” Eddie states. Richie sighs again. “I hate college, I swear to God I’m going to drop out.” He states, rolling his eyes a bit. “Please don’t, I can’t handle another homophobic douchebag of a roommate.” Eddie states, shifting in his bed so he’s sitting up. “Or being stuck alone in this dorm room again.”

Richie’s hands drop, his eyes immediately flying to land on Eddie. “Then move into an apartment near the college with me. I’m sure I can find a two bedroom.” Richie states, smiling a little at Eddie, who’s staring at him, a bit disbelievingly. “Why’re you smiling at me like that?” Richie shrugs, but he knows all too well why he’s smiling at Eddie in the way that he is. The whole point of saving up his money for an apartment rather than college was so he could share an apartment with Eddie.   
  
“Come on, Eds, what’dya say? Hm? Wanna move in with good ol’ trashmouth or what?” Richie asks, trying to change the subject. “Do you actually have the money for a two bedroom apartment?” Eddie asks. Richie nods, still smiling at Eddie. “Yeah.” Eddie lifts an eyebrow in disbelief. “But you decided to go into debt for college?” Richie nods again. “Why the fuck? Would you do that? You could have just gotten an apartment and that would have taken away the cost of a dorm room.” Richie shrugs. “I’d still have the debt of an apartment, and getting a dorm would’ve meant I’d have a higher chance of seeing you.” He explains. “Did you seriously uproot your whole life to see me? What if I hadn’t been in New York anymore?” Richie shrugs again. “Guess I would’ve spent the money for nasty ass public transportation for nothing. But, Eds, I  _ knew  _ you were here. It was like a gut feeling or something, just, something pulling me to New York.” Eddie sighs, standing from the bed and walking over to Richie. “You shouldn’t have uprooted your entire life for me, you idiot. You shouldn’t have given up your dreams for me!” Eddie states, pulling Richie into a hug. Butterflies flutter in Richie’s stomach, the same way they would when he was seventeen at just the thought of Eddie hugging him.

“You can become a comedian basically anywhere, Eds. I didn’t give anything up.” Richie states, reaching down to hug Eddie back. “You’d have a better chance of being a comedian in Hollywood or something.” Eddie exclaims into Richie’s chest. Richie laughs a bit, pulling Eddie closer to himself, if that’s even possible.

“Probably true. But I can’t afford California right now, and going to California would have caused me to give something up. You.” Richie explains. “If you really want me to go to California, we can go after you finish college. I’m in no rush, I’m still only nineteen.” Eddie pulls away from the hug, placing his hands on Richie’s cheeks to pull his face down closer to Eddie’s. The two boys stand like that for a moment, faces only inches apart, until Eddie’s moving forward, placing his lips gently on Richie’s. 

It takes a minute for the trashmouth to process what’s happening, but once he does, he begins to kiss Eddie back, ignoring the loud thoughts of  **Holy shit Eds is kissing me** that’s running through his head on repeat.

Eddie’s the one to pull away from the kiss, only to be able to breath again. His hands remain on Richie’s face, Richie’s hands move to Eddie’s waist gently.

“Is this okay?” He asks Richie, who’s smiling a little. Richie nods, squeezing his hips a bit. “Yeah, but what happened to going slow?” Eddie shrugs, leaning up to gently peck Richie on the lips again. “I got impatient.” He states. “I’d love to go to California with you, Richie. And until then live in an apartment with you, near the college. I’d love to do anything with you.” Eddie pauses, as though thinking something over. “Well, almost anything.” He restates, laughing a bit. Richie laughs a bit as well, but the laugh soon dies down when he realizes where he’s placed his hands. 

Eddie stares at Richie, concerned now that his smile’s dropped. “Rich? What’s wrong?” Richie doesn’t reply. “Is it okay if my hands are here?” Richie asks, squeezing Eddie’s hips again to remind Eddie where he’s placed his hands. Eddie nods, gently stroking Richie’s cheek with one hand, using the other to push a messy, unbrushed curl out of Richie’s face. “Yeah, of course. I’ll always tell you if something isn’t okay, okay? Please don’t treat me like I’m a doll that’s on the verge of breaking.” Richie nods. “I just want to make sure you won’t feel uncomfortable.” Eddie nods, leaning up to place a gentle kiss onto Richie’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.” He reassures, smiling at Richie.

Richie nods again. “Are you sure you want to go to this party? I really don’t want to, I have a bad feeling about it.” Eddie shrugs. “I’m okay with going, I’m sure your bad feeling is just anxiety.” Richie nods. “Okay, wanna watch a movie or something?” Eddie nods, pulling away from Richie’s grip entirely. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka. The next chapter's going to be a very heavy trigger warning, and will be referenced in the chapters after it, so please read at your own risk if you're affected by attempted rape and drugging.


	21. Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, very heavy trigger warning in this chapter! Read at your own risk, and if you don't read you won't be missing anything because it will be referenced in the chapters after this!

**_____**

**The air begins to feel a little thin**

**As we're waiting for the morning to begin**

**But for now you told me to hold this jar**

**And when I looked inside I saw it held your heart**

**For me to walk away with**

**______**

_ September 5, 1995 _

The music coming from the frat house the party’s being held in can be heard a mile away, and Richie soon realizes he doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to walk any closer to this fucking house. The closer to the frat house he gets, the worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach becomes. But he continues to excuse it as nerves, anxiety, because the last time he went to a party he kissed his best friend, causing his at the time girlfriend to figure out he was in love with said best friend.

Speaking of that girlfriend, the closer the four teens-consisting of Beverly, Ben, Eddie, and Richie-get to the frat house, the clearer a very familiar brunette girl seems to be getting.

She’s standing on the lawn, just staring at one particular ravenette. She’s wearing a simple purple tank top and a tight, short black skirt. Her feet are bare, her shoes are nowhere to be seen.

“Richie? Is’at you?” She calls out across the lawn once the four have started their way up the walkway to the front door. Richie nods, waving at the brunette. Her hair’s half up, half down, and Richie’s sure that at the beginning of the night it had been all the way up.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Don’t wear it out.” He responds, dragging Eddie over to her by their interlocked hands. Elizabeth immediately drags them into a drunken half hug that holds the overpowering smell of whisky and weed. “Hey, guys. It’s good to see you!” She exclaims, pulling away from the hug to stare at the two. “Still together?” She asks eyeing their hands. Richie nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand a bit. “Technically, now back together.” He states.

Elizabeth smiles at them. “Well, that’s good. I’m still a single pringle, myself. But I have been eyeing this cutie named Benji, y’know, the guy that threw the party.” She states. The three stand in silence for a moment, watching a few other people enter the house. “Well, you two have fun! I’m gonna go find Benji so I can have some fun as well.” She states, winking at the two before skipping away. She stumbles a bit, signaling to the two boys that she’s just a bit tipsy.

“Alright, Eds. Ready to have some fun?” Eddie nods, leading Richie into the house with a smile.

The house is extremely crowded, smelling of various alcohols, weed, cigarettes, smoke, vomit, and maybe a hint of…. Piss? Is Richie smelling that right?

“Eds, do you smell piss too? Or is that just me?” Eddie nods, laughing a bit. “Yeah, I fucking smell it.” He responds, making a beeline towards the living room. “That’s fucking nasty.” Richie states, following after Eddie. “Don’t judge people’s kinks, they can’t control it!” Eddie exclaims, plopping down on the couch next to a tipsy lesbian couple who appear to be at every platonic base and clearly wanting to be at every sexual base.

“You’re right about that, Eds.” Richie pauses for a minute. “That’s not your way of hinting to me that you have a piss kink, right?” Eddie shakes his head, laughing again but scrunching his nose in disgust. “No, Richie. I’m too much of a germaphobe to play with bodily fluids.” He responds. It’s Richie’s turn to laugh after that, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

At some point the two end up with drinks that Beverly brings them, both nonalcoholic, luckily. Richie plans on staying sober, even if he wasn’t really an alcoholic when he was seventeen. He plans on never using alcohol or any other substances again, no matter what. He made a promise to his mom, and he’s going to keep it.

“Rich, I’m going to the bathroom, okay? Watch my drink?” Eddie asks a little later, once they’d gotten tired of sitting on the couch and watching the lesbians hint at each other. Rather, they’ve moved to a more quiet area, a hallway with very few people in it. Really the only people in the hallway are the couples going to the few downstairs bedrooms and the people going to the downstairs bathrooms.

Richie nods, taking Eddie’s cup from him. “Will do, Eduardo.” He states, smiling at his boyfriend. Eddie nods, kissing Richie on the cheek before walking off, down the hall to the bathroom.

Richie stands in the hallway, leaning against the slightly cigarette stained, but otherwise baby blue wall. He watches two more people walk by, smiling and mentally yelling at them that all the downstairs bedrooms have been taken. Or at least that he knows of. But from the way they’re feeling each other up, it seems like they’re just gonna say fuck it and have sex in the hallway if all the downstairs bedrooms are taken.

Someone bumps into him, causing Richie to drop Eddie’s drink. He looks down at the spilled drink, cursing a little under his breath, before sparing a glance up at whoever bumped into him.

“Sam, what the fuck dude? Back off.” He states, pushing Sam’s disgruntled figure off of him. He figures he’ll just give his drink to Eddie, so no one has to make a trip all the way to the crowded weed smelling kitchen where Richie’s sure at least two people are doing cocaine.

“Sorry, sorry. Just a bit tipsy, s’all.” Sam slurs out, smiling a little at Richie. The bad feeling in Richie’s stomach grows a bit more, but he yet again shrugs it off. He won’t let Sam do anything to him or Eddie.

Richie takes a sip of his water, wrinkling his nose at the slightly bitter taste of it. Why the hell did it suddenly taste funny? It tasted fine before, maybe someone spiked it or something? Why the hell would someone spike water, though?

He takes another sip, maybe trying to gauge the taste, see if it’s any alcohol he recognizes. When he realizes it’s not, he looks down at his drink, in hopes of maybe seeing the color of the alcohol and being able to match it to the taste. Instead, he sees a small white pill looking thing dissolving in his drink.

And that’s when Richie realizes Sam drugged him. 

But by then it was too late for Richie to drop the drink and run, his limbs were already starting to feel like jelly, his brain was starting to feel fuzzy. He feels tired, dizzy, and almost falls over standing right there until Sam catches him.

“Whoa there, big boy. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Richie wants to shake his head, say no and pull away from Sam’s grip on his arms, but when he does, Sam’s grip only gets tighter, his face more menacing. “I said, come on.” Sam repeats, words harsher than the first time. Richie has no choice but to follow him up the stairs and into the nearest bedroom.

Sam, in his slightly proud haze-proud, because he’s never been able to roofie or score someone as tall or attractive as Richie-forgets to lock the door. Richie doesn’t notice it, gaze too focused on Sam’s hands, where they’re fumbling with the button on Richie’s jeans.

Richie tries to reach down, to push Sam’s hands away, only for Sam to use one hand to grab both of Richie’s wrists and pin them above his head in one swift motion. Richie struggles with all of his might against Sam’s grip, but it only grows tighter, so tight that Richie’s sure there’s going to be bruises for weeks after that. But Richie’s used to pain, from all the Bowers’ attacks. He just wants to get out of Sam’s grip, out of the room, out of the house.

He wishes he had’ve chosen to stay in that stupidly overpriced dorm room with Eddie and cuddle and watch movies or something.

But instead, Sam’s leaning over him, sticking a hand down his underwear. Richie tries to kick Sam, but is unable to, because of his jeans, pooled around his ankles, restricting his movement. It doesn’t help that the drugs in his system are making his limbs feel heavy, making his eyes feel droopy and tired.

Richie opens his mouth to scream for help, but at the same moment, Sam smashes his lips onto Richie’s. Richie’s cries and sobs are drowned out by Sam’s lips, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He can’t pull away or push Sam away.

Tears stream down the sides of Richie’s face, and somehow his glasses are being taken off, being placed on the nightstand next to the bed. “There, now it’s easier to kiss.” Sam states, bringing Richie into another kiss immediately after.

Richie continues to attempt to free himself, continues to try to scream for help. Every time he does, though, Sam’s hand grips his wrists tighter, until the bones are digging into each other. “Shhh, the less you struggle the sooner it’ll be over.” Sam murmurs against Richie’s lips, kissing him again. Richie nods, his body finally going limp and just allowing Sam to do what he wants.

Sam’s hand that was previously in Richie’s boxers slides out of them to grip the waistband, beginning to slip them down Richie’s pale legs, when the door slams open.

“Samuel! Stop it! How could you?” A female voice, one that Richie’s never heard before, yells into the room. “Let go of him! Stop it!” She exclaims, running into the room and pulling Sam away from Richie. Richie immediately reaches down to pull his boxers up, his shoulders aching a bit at finally being moved.

“I let you use me as a toy for long enough, Samuel! That doesn’t mean you can just pick someone else to use as a toy, especially your brother’s boyfriend!” The girl shouts. Richie reaches over to try to find his glasses, but two hands are already sliding them onto his face. Two familiar hands, the hands of his crying boyfriend.

Richie reaches forward to pull Eddie into a tight hug, one that he’s sure is cutting off both of their airflow, but neither seem to care. 

“I’m sorry, Eds. I’m sorry.” Richie murmurs into Eddie’s shoulder, leaning up onto his knees to be able to access Eddie a bit better, so it’s easier to hug him. Eddie drops his face into Richie’s messy curls, shushing him. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Richie shakes his head. “Not your fault, Sam’s fault, okay? I wanna go home.”

Eddie nods, leaning away from the hug to eye Richie. “Yeah, we can go home. You gotta put your pants on first, though, okay?” Richie nods, flopping back down on the bed and grabbing for his jeans at his feet. He sighs when he realizes he can’t reach them, and that he’s honestly way too weak to even try.

“Too tired, Eds.” He slurs out, laying down on the bed, his head on the tear stained pillow. On hand grabs at his head, the headache from the drugs now making an unbearable appearance.

“Okay, one second.” Eddie states, walking down to the end of the bed and grabbing Richie’s jeans. “I’m gonna put them back on you, okay?” Richie nods, starting to drift off to sleep. Once Eddie’s gotten Richie’s jeans back on him, zipped and buckled, he taps Richie on the shoulder. “Don’t go falling asleep on me now, Rich. C’mon, we just gotta walk to the apartment and then you can sleep.” Richie shakes his head. “Too tired to walk that far, Eddie s’ghetti.” Eddie sighs. 

“Eddie, I have a car, if you want to use it.” That same female voice from before speaks up. Eddie turns to face Crystal, Sam’s now ex, standing in the doorway. She’s leaning against it, her short blonde hair messy from her fight with Sam. “I’ll help you get him downstairs and to the car too, if you need. I’m sorry for treating you so terribly before, I was just always afraid you’d treat me as badly as Sam always had. But seeing how much you care about Richie, I can tell that you would never. Please forgive me?” Eddie sighs, but nods. “Yeah, I’ll forgive you. Now help me out here?”

Crystal smiles, nodding and walking over to Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from the song A Car, A Torch, A Death by Twenty One Pilots.


	22. Broken

**_____**

**Feel it heavy in my bones now**

**Feel like everybody goes out**

**And smiles for the Gram, yeah**

**I tried, but I can’t**

**_____**

_ September 6, 1995 _

Richie wakes up the next morning to a pounding headache. He wonders, for a split second, if perhaps he had drank too much. Until he remembers he hadn’t drunk anything other than water last night. But he can’t quite think of why his head hurts so fucking bad.

He turns to the nightstand to grab his glasses, and sighs in relief when he sees the two red pills on the nightstand, with a bottle of water next to them. He grabs them immediately, downing them with quite a few glugs of water, because whatever the hell he ingested last night dried his throat out terribly.

Before he knows it half that bottle of water is gone. He takes the bottle away from his mouth, twists the cap back on, and places it back on the nightstand. His throat is still dry, but his head hurts so fucking badly that he wants to save the water so he doesn’t have to stand to get more.

Eddie is nowhere to be seen, Richie realizes once he’s placed his glasses on his face. He assumes Eddie’s gone off to class, and almost starts to panic when he realizes he missed his classes today. Until he remembers he was going to drop out anyway, so who fucking cares.

He looks around the room, trying to get his bearings, and trying to figure out what the hell happened last night after Sam bumped into him. After that it’s just a major blank spot in his memory.

There’s a not on the nightstand, Richie soon realizes. He reaches over, picking it up. Reading it hurts his head even more, but he doesn’t care, because it’s from Eddie.

**_Hey, Richie, whenever you read this, I just want you to know not to panic, I just went off to class. I’m sure your head hurts so I left you some Advil, and no, you didn’t drink anything last night. You only had water. If you remember anything, I’m so sorry, please don’t do anything you’ll regret. If not, I’ll explain what happened when I get back to the dorm. Just please don’t hurt yourself._ **

Even though it’s not signed with a name, Richie knows the note is from Eddie. He reads it a few more times, because his head hurts so bad it’s difficult to concentrate the first time. Reading about last night and Eddie apologizing immediately makes Richie wonder even more what happened. 

He tries to think on it, really think, and at first it doesn’t work. At first it really only makes his head hurt even worse. But somehow, somehow, he remembers, and is immediately plunged into the memories of last night. 

_ Hands on his jeans, lips on his, a tongue in his mouth. But it’s not Eddie’s.  _

_ There’s a hand down his pants, his brain’s fuzzy, another hand around his wrists. _

_ A girl, tackling the man on top of him. Screaming. Eddie helping him into his jeans, into the car outside. Some blonde girl’s car. _

_ Eddie undressing him from those party clothes after asking him about a million times if it’s okay to do that and slipping him into a shirt and sweatpants. _

Richie can only really remember small details through the hurt and fuzziness in his brain. He knows the man in the bed with him wasn’t Eddie, he was in the bathroom.  **I didn’t cheat on him, right?**

Richie thinks harder, trying to scan his brain, search through the scrambled memories. He can’t think of much, except a single name.

_ Sam. _

☁☁☁

Eddie returns to the dorm a few hours later, backpack in hand. He immediately drops it as soon as he walks through the door, toeing his shoes off as well instead of sitting to untie them and take them off, which surprises Richie. The trashmouth still has a bit of a headache, but it had eased up enough for him to actually be able to go to the bathroom and get more water, and a sandwich, even if he had only eaten half of it.

Eddie walks over to where Richie’s laying on the bed, eyes closed, because he was trying to get another nap in before Eddie came back. Clearly that hadn’t worked, though.

“Hey, Rich. How’re you feeling?” Richie groans, reaching a hand out and feeling around until Eddie’s hand is in his own. “Head hurts, everything fuckin’ hurts.” He mutters, squeezing Eddie’s hand to really emphasize the pain. Eddie wants to laugh, but can’t, knowing Richie’s forgotten what happened last night.

“Rich, do you remember anything from last night?” Richie shakes his head, finally moving his head to face Eddie. He almost regrets the decision when he sees how sad Eddie looks, like he’s on the verge of tears.

“No, not much. I just remember… Sam? I… Did I cheat on you? Please don’t tell me I did.” Eddie shakes his head, a single tear escaping his eye. “No, God no, Richie. I know you would never do that, you should know that too. But, Sam did do something.” Richie closes his eyes, nodding a bit. “Did he do something to you? I swear to God I’ll kill him if he did.” Eddie shakes his head again, now laying down next to Richie to bring him into an embrace.

“No, Rich. He did something to you. He drugged you, and then tried to rape you. Crystal, his ex, found him and stopped him before he could.” Richie’s eyes widen in surprise, the memories now flowing back into his brain. Tears flood his eyes, but he doesn’t even try to hold them back like he usually would. He buries his head in Eddie’s chest, just letting the tears flow free.

Eddie clutches Richie’s head to his chest, running his fingers through Richie’s messy curls and occasionally kissing the crown of his head gently. 

“‘M sorry, Eds. ‘M so sorry.” Richie mutters into his chest, a sob escaping his throat. Eddie shakes his head, though he knows Richie can’t see it, and places another kiss on Richie’s head. He pulls Richie’s face away from his chest to place a gentle kiss on his forehead before placing his head back in his chest.

“Don’t apologize, Richie. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything, okay, baby?” Richie shakes his head against Eddie’s chest. “I almost cheated on you.” He murmurs, the words muffled by Eddie’s chest. Eddie shakes his head again. “No, you were drugged, you couldn’t move. You did  _ not  _ try to cheat on me.” Richie sobs again, a wet, loud noise. 

Neither of the two speak after that, the only sounds being Richie’s occasional sobs and sniffles. Eddie tangles their legs together, trying to get as close to Richie as possible. He continues to card his fingers through Richie’s hair, placing kisses there, anything to try to comfort the taller boy. He knows nothing can fix someone that’s broken, someone who was already broken but has just gotten broken even more. He knows nothing can take the memories away, though he wishes he could. He wishes he would just gently place his fingers on Richie’s temple and suck the memories right out of his brain and add them to the collection of the same types of memories he’s gotten from Sam.

But unfortunately, that’s not possible. The only thing he can do is add glue to the pieces that have been broken yet again, and add another layer of paint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from the song I Can't Carry This Anymore by Anson Seabra. Also, sorry, these past few chapters have been kind of sad chapters, but a Losers club reunion is coming, so happy chapters are coming soon!


	23. I Love You

**_____**

**I should be over all the butterflies**

**But I’m into you, I’m into you**

**And, baby, even on our worst nights**

**I’m into you, I’m into you**

**_____**

_ September 10, 1995 _

Richie sighs as he pulls the shoebox of unread letters out from under his bed, or really his and Eddie’s bed. Today’s the day he and Eddie are moving out, into an actual apartment. He’s dropped out of college, although of course Eddie’s still taking classes. Richie’s almost packed, but Eddie still has a lot to pack. 

Currently he’s standing on his bed, pulling posters off the wall carefully, so as not to rip them. They were posters for some of the bands that always reminded him of Richie, a movie or two sprinkled in as well. Though he’s never even really enjoyed the bands, everytime he looked at the posters he thought of Richie, which is why he kept them, all through his remaining year of high school and his first year of college.

Richie thinks for a moment, almost wanting to throw the letters out. He had still only read that first one, the one Eddie had sent directly after their breakup. Richie decides to keep the letters, though he knows he really doesn’t need to because everything between him and Eddie is normal again, back to being almost perfect. But he still wants to know what Eddie had to say to him over the past two years.

He places the shoebox gently into the box he had brought with him to college, placing his many mixtapes on top of it. His few articles of clothing have already been packed into that trashy duffle bag he had brought to college. 

“Rich, can you come help me? I can’t reach this poster.” Eddie sighs out, already knowing he’s going to get taunted for his height. Richie, for once not being able to think of a joke, just joins Eddie where he’s standing on the bed, and ruffles his hair. “You’re so cute, cute, cute!” He exclaims, pinching Eddie’s cheek. Eddie groans, scowling at Richie. “Shut the fuck up.” Richie laughs again, carefully taking the poster down, making sure not to damage it.

“Or what?” He asks, handing the poster to Eddie. “Or no kisses for the rest of the day.” Eddie states, carefully rolling it up and placing a rubber band around the rolled up poster. Richie turns to look at Eddie, bottom lip pushed out. “But, Eds, I  _ need  _ your kisses.” He whines, following Eddie off the bed and to one of Eddie’s many boxes sitting on Richie’s bed.

“You’ll be fine for one day.” Eddie murmurs, placing the poster with the others. “Noooooo, I will literally  _ die _ .” Eddie rolls his eyes, turning to face his boyfriend. “Then maybe you should have thought about that before taunting me for my height.” Richie sighs, his hands slipping down around Eddie’s waist. “Okay, okay. I’m  _ sorry. _ Now do I get kisses?” Eddie pretends to think for a minute before leaning up on his tip toes and placing a gentle, chaste peck on Richie’s lips. 

Richie whines again, tightening his hold on Eddie when the smaller boy tries to walk away. “Eds.” He whines. Eddie rolls his eyes. “Fine, but you have to lean down to get them, you giraffe.” Richie nods happily, a smile stretching over his face as he leans down and places a kiss on Eddie’s lips. 

When they pull away from the kiss, Richie finally lets Eddie escape from his grasp. 

Eddie smiles at Richie before turning to close the final box. “I love you.” Richie murmurs, against his own will. It had just hit him, hard. Like when you’re swimming in the ocean and suddenly a huge wave grabs you and takes you under. But he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, he feels like this wave is a breath of fresh air after being stuck under the water for the past two years.

Eddie turns to look at him, a surprised look on his face. Richie’s quick to speak again. “Y-you don’t have to say it back, don’t feel pressured or anything, I just wanted you to know how I felt, and-and I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same-” Richie’s cut off by Eddie placing his lips onto Richie’s yet again. “I love you too, Richie. How could I not? You’re perfect.” Eddie says once they’ve pulled away. Richie shakes his head, reaching up with one hand to wipe the oncoming tears from his eyes. 

“No, I’m not perfect. I’m so far from perfect, Eds.” Eddie’s the one to shake his head this time, tracing the scar on Richie’s cheek that had come from when Bowers punched him, and his rings dug deep into Richie’s cheek. Eddie knows that happened after he left, he would have remembered cleaning up such a gnarly wound.

“God, Richie. You don’t see it, but I do. You’re so fucking perfect. You’re funny, and attractive, and understanding, and you always know just what to say when I’m upset, and you’re so strong. And no matter what, you always know just how to cheer me up.” Richie doesn’t bother holding the tears back anymore, finally allowing them to flow freely down his face, a sob escaping his throat. He slips his hands around Eddie’s hips again, his head dropping down to lay on Eddie’s shoulder, with his face buried in the soft fabric of the Nirvana shirt he knew Eddie stole from him, due to the smell of cigarettes basically sewn into the fabric.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Richie repeats into Eddie’s shoulder, allowing Eddie’s words to flood over him, bury themselves deep into Richie’s skin, flow through his veins, seep into his brain.

“I love you too, ‘Chee.” Eddie murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down Richie’s back gently, soothingly. 

☁☁☁

The two boys eventually get out of that shitty dorm room, and somehow hail a cab to the apartment Richie rented. The building closely resembles the one Eddie stayed in with Sam, Deborah, and Frank those years, but almost every apartment building looks the same in New York, so Eddie’s not surprised. Luckily it’s only a five minute drive/ten minute walk to the college, so Eddie won’t be rushed to get to his classes on time.

The apartment is on the third floor, two doors down from the elevator, room 304. It’s a small apartment, a one bedroom, but it’s nice. It’s nice to Eddie, because he gets to share it with Richie. It’s nice for Richie because he gets to share it with Eddie.

They’re able to unpack fairly quickly, because they have no furniture or anything. Just those five boxes of their stuff, Eddie’s two suitcases, and Richie’s singular dufflebag, all piled into the only bedroom in the apartment. 

Once they’re put everything in the bedroom, they open one of the boxes to dig out one of the bedsets they brought. It ended up being Eddie’s, his pristine white bedset. They set it up on the living room floor to make a pallet to sleep on, deciding to wait to go furniture shopping tomorrow, and go to sleep quickly, laying on the hardwood floor of the living room in their semi-trashy apartment that smells slightly of mold and sweat.

But it’s still better than the dorm room of the college, because they can actually shower in the apartment without shoes, and at least the smell of sweat and mold will be easy to replace with their own scents, whatever those may be. The dorm constantly smelled like vomit, no matter how much febreeze Eddie sprayed, or how much cologne Richie flooded the room in.

And at least this apartment is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lyrics at the beginning are from Still Into You by Paramore, and I realize this chapter is pretty short, but I just tried to type it out in a bit of a rush, so that's why. At least it's a bit of a fluffier and happier chapter!


	24. Dumbass

**_____**

**If you’re awake then I am too, if you’re lost then I’ll find you**

**If you’re hurt then I’ll fix you**

**If you go blind, then I’ll describe the view, if you can’t feel then I’ll hold you**

**If you fall, know I’ve got you**

**_____**

_ September 11, 1995 _

Eddie’s the first to wake up the next morning, just laying next to Richie and admiring his boyfriend sleep. He used to think it was weird, thinking his boyfriend was cute when he slept and watching him sleep, until he realized Richie did the same the few times he woke up early. 

Richie’s arm was slung heavily over Eddie’s waist, holding the smaller boy in a tight grip, so even if Eddie did want to get up he knew he would have a high risk of waking Richie up. Luckily, he doesn’t want to nor does he have to get up.

So he continues to lay next to Richie, reaching a gentle hand out to brush a stray curl out of the ravenette’s face. Richie smiles a little in his sleep, as though he knows it’s Eddie giving him the simple touch. Eddie smiles a bit too, knowing his boyfriend can automatically tell the difference between his and anyone else’s touch.

After about ten more minutes of waiting, Eddie grows aware of the fact he  _ really  _ has to pee. He tries to wait it out for another five minutes, until he’s squirming around a little, but making sure to not wake Richie. He sighs, realizing he’s going to have to wake Richie or else he’s going to piss himself.

He reaches out, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder. Richie only grunts, tightening his hold around Eddie’s waist a bit more. Eddie sighs, trying to shake Richie away again. When he realizes it won’t work, he leans forward, connecting his lips to Richie’s to attempt to wake the trashmouth.

Luckily, it worked, and before he knew it Richie was squinting at him. Richie’s grip loosens around his waist a bit, but not enough for him to be able to wiggle away to go to the bathroom.

“Richie, babe, lemme go, I need to pee.” Eddie whines, pushing against Richie’s chest as Richie buries his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “Just hold it.” He mutters into Eddie’s chest, voice muffled a bit. Eddie sighs, pushing against Richie’s shoulder. “I have been, and I’m seriously about to piss myself. Lemme go.” Eddie mutters, still trying to push Richie away.

“Oh, kinky.” Richie comments, and Eddie can practically see the smirk he knows Richie’s holding as he huffs out an agitated breath. “Richie, seriously.” Richie groans, but finally allows Eddie to wiggle out of his hold. Eddie gladly does so, walking off to the bathroom.

Richie waits in the pallet on the floor for Eddie to come back, immediately wrapping his arm back around Eddie’s waist as soon as he does. He buries his head in the soft fabric of Eddie’s (Richie’s) The Smiths T-shirt, already starting to doze back off until Eddie’s shaking his shoulder again. “Richie, we don’t have time for this. We need to go furniture shopping, remember?” Richie groans, shaking his head. “Later.” Eddie sighs, once again trying to push Richie away from his body. Richie shakes his head again. “No.” He states, pulling Eddie impossibly closer to himself. Eddie sighs for what feels like the millionth time that morning. “We’ll get food on the way there.” He states, carding his fingers through the taller man’s hair. He knows food will get Richie out of the bed.

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Richie mutters, slowly pulling away from Eddie. He blinks a few times to allow his eyes to get used to the bright sunlight coming in through the uncurtained windows. “Alright, c’mon Rich. Hurry up, breakfast ends soon in a lot of places, it’s already nine forty-five.” Eddie states, quickly standing from the bed. Richie follows as quickly as he can, sticking his glasses on his face and running a hand through his messy bed head. He glances over at Eddie, an awkward smile on his face. 

“How do I look?” He asks, posing goofily. Eddie giggles a little, eyeing his boyfriend. “Like a hot mess, as per usual.” Richie smiles wider, poking Eddie in the cheek. “Eddie Spaghetti called me, Ricardo Tozier, hot.” He jokes. Eddie rolls his eyes jokingly. “I take it back! You’re the ugliest man in the world.” He jokes. Richie’s smile turns into a fake pout. “Aw, spaghetti man, that’s so rude.” He whines. “It’s the truth.” Eddie states. “You better take that back, spaghetti.” Richie says, smirking evilly at Eddie.

“Or what?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Richie runs forward, tackling his boyfriend. “Tickles!” He shouts, tickling Eddie wildly. Eddie begins to laugh immediately, his face quickly turning red as he squirms under Richie’s hold. “No, no, Richie! Stop! I-I take it back!” Richie doesn’t let up, continuing to tickle Eddie. “Say I’m the hottest man you’ve ever seen.” Eddie shakes his head, still laughing loudly. “No!” He shouts, socking Richie playfully in the arm, in hopes of getting the taller man to let up.

Richie continues, though, feigning hurt. “Wow, spaghetti. Never knew abuse was your thing.” He jokes, still tickling Eddie’s sides. Eddie struggles to get a deep breath in between the laughs caused by Richie’s tickling. “Ack! Richie! Okay, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen!” Eddie shouts in between laughs. Richie finally stops, allowing Eddie to finally catch his breath. Once Eddie’s breathing normally again and only barely giggling, he leans down, still straddling Eddie’s thighs. “Now gimme a kissy kiss, Eds Spagheds.” Eddie sighs, leaning up and pecking Richie on the lips. “Now lemme go.” He deadpans. Richie shakes his head, smiling at his boyfriend. “Kiss me like you mean it!” He insists, puckering his lips out.

Eddie rolls his eyes, a smile on his face as he leans up and connects his lips with Richie’s. Richie smiles wider once they’ve pulled away, finally standing from the floor to allow Eddie up. Eddie’s grimacing, wiping at his mouth. “God, fucking morning breath. Go brush your fucking teeth, dumbass.” He grumbles with a frown. Richie nods, happily skipping off down the hall to the bathroom to do as told.

☁☁☁

Once the two have brushed their teeth and finally look semi presentable, which basically means they put shoes on and ran a hand through their messy curls, they begin the walk to the nearest place still serving breakfast. They manage to find a Waffle House and enter, luckily there weren’t many people there, so they were able to get their breakfast pretty quickly and get out.

Now they’re halfway to the furniture store, and Eddie’s feet are already starting to hurt. He groans, immediately grabbing Richie’s attention.

“What’s up babe?” He asks, obviously concerned. Eddie’s sure Richie thinks the food did something to his stomach or something, which is why he’s so concerned. “My feet hurt.” Eddie whines, slumping over so he’s basically just relying on Richie’s body to hold him up. Richie stumbles a bit, but is quickly able to catch himself. He stops walking, turning to Eddie.

“Damn, Eds. You could have just asked for a piggy back ride.” He states, walking in front of Eddie and crouching down a bit for the smaller man to be able to jump onto his back. Eddie successfully does that, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck securely, but making sure he’s not choking out his boyfriend.

And it’s then that Eddie’s glad he picked New York City, of all places, to move to. Nobody even bats an eye at the two like they would have in most other places. Nobody insults them, or anything. Sure, they get a few dirty glares from a few older people, but nobody even bothers calling them names or anything. One woman even smiles at the two when she sees them, walking over to compliment on how cute they were. 

Eddie had smiled, thanking her quickly and awkwardly. Richie had thanked her, less awkwardly, and then the two were walking again.

They quickly arrive at the furniture store, and Eddie almost feels bad for Richie with how tired he looks by the time they get there. But before Eddie can even open his mouth to apologize, Richie’s holding up a slightly shaking hand and speaks first. 

“Don’t apologize, I’m fine. I was the one that offered the piggy back ride, okay? So shut the fuck up.” He states. Eddie laughs a little. “I didn’t even say anything.” He murmurs, grabbing Richie’s hand and walking inside the store.

They walk around for a bit, finding a couch, a bed, a dining table, some chairs for the dining table, y’know, necessary stuff for an apartment. They’re looking at TVs when a group of college age girls walk over, giggling a little as they approach Richie.

One, a blonde with blue eyes, leans up on her tip toes to tap Richie on the shoulder. He turns, a bit bewildered and almost expecting to be met with Eddie until he remembers Eddie’s still standing next to him, ranting about how the prices for the TVs were ‘So fucking expensive, Rich. Seriously! Why the fuck do they cost so much?’

“Uh, can I help you?” Richie asks the girl awkwardly. She bites her lip, turning back to face her giggly friends. “Uh, I was just wondering if I could get your number?” She asks. This grabs Eddie’s attention, finally causing him to turn to face the group of girls and Richie, who looks visibly uncomfortable. Eddie almost wants to intervene until he realizes that’ll probably just cause more harm than good, so he decides to just observe.

“Listen, uh, I’m not really interested.” The girl bats her eyes up at Richie a few times, trying to flirt. “C’mon, I could convince you otherwise. One date.” She says, in a soft, but seductive voice. Richie shakes his head. “Uh, no. I’m taken, okay?” She sighs, her bottom lips finally coming out of her lip’s tight hold on it as she smiles seductively. “She doesn’t have to know.” She whispers, running her fingers up Richie’s arm. Eddie glares at the girl, trying to send some sort of nonverbal message to back off his man, but neither she nor her friends seem to be picking it up.

“I’m gay.” Richie deadpans. The girl’s eyes widen in shock, causing her to back away just a bit. But then she’s back at it, smirking at him and trying to be seductive yet again. “I could change your mind, straighten you up a bit. C’mon, you can’t look at these-” She gestures to her chest, the D cups that seem to almost be popping out of her shirt- “And say no.” Richie glances down at them, not at all fazed by them. “Uh, yeah, that’s a  _ definite _ no. See, I prefer my hookups with a little less boob, and a little more dick. So fuck off.” Richie grumbles, no longer uncomfortable, more so angry no. The girl seems to be getting a little angry as well. “I don’t fucking believe you. If you’re so gay, and have such a  _ gay  _ boyfriend, then  _ prove it _ .” She states. Richie shrugs, walking over to Eddie, who’s still glaring at the girls.

“Okay.” He says, placing his hands on Eddie’s hips to bring his boyfriend into a kiss. Eddie, obviously, kisses back.

When the two pull away, the group of girls have backed up further now, the blonde one wiping her hand off on another girl’s shirt wildly. “Ew, ew, ew! He’s gonna make me a faggot with his faggot germs!” She shouts, running off. The other girls follow her, the brunette she was rubbing her hand on the only one not following. She’s too busy scrubbing the imaginary gay germs off her shirt.

Richie laughs a bit, causing Eddie to laugh as well. “Well, that was something, wasn’t it, Eds?” He asks, finally turning back to the TVs. “Yeah, it was. It was kind of a rush, honestly.” He says, an amused smile still on his face.

They finally end up just picking a random TV, buying all their furniture, and hiring a UHaul to take their furniture back to the apartment building while they walk there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, yeah idk what this chapter was either, to be honest. the lyrics at the beginning are from It's U by Cavetown.


	25. Dirty Laundry

**_____**

**Your love is scaring me**

**No one has ever cared for me as much, as you do**

**Yeah, I need you here**

**_____**

_ September 15, 1995 _

After many days of unpacking boxes of furniture and many hours of frustrating furniture building, their apartment was finally furnished and as neat as Eddie supposed it was going to get. He was fine with the slight mess, not quite the same neat freak as he had been in childhood. He still enjoyed being clean, and having a clean living space, but a bit of mess is okay with him.

Though there was one thing he had learned he  _ hated  _ over the past few days of living with his boyfriend. Richie left clothes fucking everywhere. Whether they were clean or dirty, they were on the ground, on the bed, on the couch.  _ Everywhere _ . 

And Eddie seriously hated it, especially since he tried to do Richie’s laundry, but he never knew which clothes were clean and which were dirty, and there was really no point. Richie just ended up throwing them all over the apartment anyway. 

But Eddie didn’t want to bring it up, because he knew it would make Richie feel bad. But it was tiring having to constantly pick up clothes and place them in the dirty laundry, or in the washing machine, only for them to somehow end up in the floor as soon as the dryer beeped.

So he knew he had to bring it up. But when would be a good time? And how would he say it without making Richie feel guilty?

Eddie groans as he trips over yet  _ another  _ shirt, and decides he doesn’t really care when or how he says it, he just  _ needs  _ to say it.

☁☁☁

At dinner that night, as the two men eat yet another pizza Richie picked up on his way home from the job he had somehow managed to get, the one at the radio station, Eddie brings up the topic of the clothes everywhere.

“Hey, Rich?” Richie looks up from his slice of greasy pizza, to Eddie. “Yeah?” Eddie sighs, looking down at the pizza on his paper plate, and really starts to think, just staring at that pizza.  **Is this really my future? Eating greasy pizza off a soggy paper plate for the rest of my life, surrounded by my boyfriend’s dirty clothes?**

“Why do you leave clothes everywhere? We have a closet, and a dirty laundry basket in the bathroom.” Richie shrugs. “I dunno, just habit I guess.” Eddie sighs, trying to think of a way to word what he wants to say without hurting Richie. “Well, could you please try not to? I trip over the clothes all the time and it’s annoying. I can’t constantly clean up after you, babe. You’re a grown man, not a baby. And, another thing, could you please be quieter? I have to study for classes and stuff and it’s difficult sometimes, because you won’t really leave me alone.” Eddie winces at his words, hearing the bitterness in his voice. He hadn’t meant to sound that angry, but it had just come out, and now he knows he’s said the wrong thing.

“Sorry, Eds.” Richie murmurs, looking back down at his pizza. “I’ll try, promise.” The two are then plunged into an awkward, tense silence. One filled with guilt from both. Guilt from Richie because he feels bad about being messy. And guilt from Eddie because he made Richie feel bad.

But neither of the two knew what to say, to fix the guilt of the other. So they sat at the small, four person dining table, just staring at their half eaten, cheap, greasy pizza. The pizza Richie knows is going to upset his stomach because he’s lactose intolerant, the pizza that Eddie, by now, is so sick of he can hardly stand the sight of it. Because it’s all he’s been eating. For breakfast, lunch, dinner. That fucking pizza.

☁☁☁

_ October 3, 1995 _

Eddie noticed Richie starting to distance himself after that talk almost immediately. It had sort of caught him off guard. Sure, he had expected Richie to be a little upset, but not to the extremes he actually had. Richie would come home, box of pizza or bag of take out in hand, and just set it on the table before making a beeline for their bedroom. He wouldn’t come out unless it was to use the bathroom, or go to work the next morning. The apartment stayed clean of his clothes, clean of Richie almost completely, save for what was in their bedroom.

And at night, when Eddie came in the bedroom to go to bed, Richie would already be in bed, on his side of the bed, but with his back facing Eddie’s side. He was no longer sitting on his side of the bed, arms open for Eddie to crawl into.

Eddie quickly began to miss it. To miss the loudness that was Richie, to even miss the mess that was Richie. Because the Richie that he had fallen in love with, was the loud, annoying Richie. Not this Richie, the one that barely ever came out of his bedroom, the Richie that actually cleaned up after himself.

So, one day while Richie was sitting in the bedroom doing God knows what, Eddie decided to bring it up. He knocked on the door, and upon hearing the gentle “Come in” from Richie, had entered and sat next to his boyfriend.

“Rich, we need to talk. Again.” Eddie says, being much more aware of his tone of voice than the last time they talked, and now being sure to keep it gentle. Richie looks up at him from the sketchbook he was doodling in, the one he had bought almost immediately after Eddie left because drawing reminded him of Eddie because Eddie used to do it. All the time. Though not anymore. Richie’s not even sure if Eddie writes songs anymore. And though Richie hadn’t been any good at drawing at first, he had quickly gotten better, now being almost as good as Eddie had been. 

“What’s wrong? You’ve been so isolated after that talk.” Richie shrugs, completely taking his headphones off from where they were before resting around his neck. Eddie sighs when he hears the soft sound of his voice singing. He’s sure that despite Richie owning so many tapes of music, the mixtape Eddie made for him was the only one he listened to. 

“I just figured you wanted space, you said to be quiet, so I was. And I was cleaning up after myself, none of my clothes are on the ground, they haven’t been.” Eddie nods, scooting closer to Richie and gently taking Richie’s hand in his own. “Yeah, you have been. And you have been quiet, but you’ve been too quiet, Rich. I miss you, okay?” Richie looks down at his and Eddie’s interlocked hands. “I’m right here, though.” Eddie nods, a bit of a sad smile on his face. “Yes, you’re right here, but you’re not being you. I miss  _ you _ .” Richie nods.

“It’s okay to be as loud and annoying as you want, okay? But, let’s set up some days I can use for studying, and any other time you can be loud and annoying. And when I’m studying, you can go hang out with Bev or something or you can sit in here and draw. But I don’t need space.” Richie nods. “Let’s do, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Those are the days I need to study, and any other day be as annoying as you want.” Richie nods.

“Okay, are we good now?” Richie nods again. Eddie smiles, standing from the bed. “Then come on, even though it’s seven o’clock, let’s go grocery shopping so we’re not living off of greasy pizza and cheap lo mein anymore. It’s getting old.” Richie nods, smiling as well as he stands from the bed. “Pip pip and tally ho, my good fellow! Let’s go get some real food!” He exclaims in a terrible British accent, running out of the room, his hand slipping from Eddie’s as he does. Eddie smiles wider, laughing at Richie’s accent, following after him to put his shoes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i'm running out of ideas? also sorry i haven't updated in a bit, i'm kind of losing motivation for everything. the lyrics at the beginning are from the song scary love by the neighbourhood


	26. Badass

**_____**

**I’ll be holding your hand in the winter**

**I’ll be holding your hand in the summer**

**I’ll be holding your hand while you’re sleeping**

**I’ll be holding your hand while you’re dreaming**

**So you don’t have to worry babe**

**_____**

_ October 31, 1995 _

It was yet again Halloween, but this year, rather than dress up and go trick or treating like when they were teens, Richie and Eddie had decided to just buy a bag of candy, and watch cheesy horror movies while eating said candy. Only, before they could even get out the front door of their apartment to buy the candy, the phone in the kitchen was ringing. 

Eddie groans, walking over to the phone and picking it up to answer it. 

“Hello?” He mutters into the phone, staring over at Richie, who’s leaning against the front door. “Hey, Eddie! You got any plans tonight?” Beverly’s familiar cheerful voice calls into the phone. “Just gonna watch movies with Rich.” He can practically see Beverly’s eye roll as she sighs into the phone. “I meant  _ fun  _ plans.” She states. Eddie wishes he was talking to her face to face, so he could glare at her. “That is fun.” He states.

“You only think it’s fun because you know you’re gonna get down and dirty halfway through your movie marathon, on your brand new couch.” Beverly states. Eddie’s the one to sigh this time. “Well, listen, you’re not wrong, okay? Now what do you want?” Beverly laughs. “There’s a party tonight. You guys are coming.” Eddie shakes his head though she can’t see him. “Nope, nope, nope. You do remember what happened at our last party, right?” Beverly sighs again. “Yes, I do. Please, Eds? Sam is in jail for domestic abuse. Nothing’s going to happen.” Eddie thinks about it for a moment, shooting a glance over at Richie, who’s picking at his fingernails.

He sighs again. “Fine, Bev. I’ll try to get Richie to go. But if he doesn’t want to, then it’s not going to happen. And it better not be a costume party because we’re not wearing stupid costumes.” Beverly laughs again. “It’s not a costume party, Eddie. See you tonight!” And then the dial tone is ringing into Eddie’s ear. He takes the phone off is ear, placing it back on the holder resting on the wall.

“Richie, change of plans. Bev says we’re going to a party tonight.” Richie groans, but he’s already toeing off his shoes. “What time’s the party? And where’s it at?” Eddie shrugs. “Dunno. I just assumed Bev would pick us up and take us there.” As soon as he’s saying that, the phone’s ringing again. He picks it up, again speaking a tired “Hello?” into it.    


“It’s at the same place the other party was, at eight. Sorry I forgot to tell you. I’m not picking you up.” Beverly states, then she’s hanging up again. Eddie rolls his eyes, placing the phone into the holder and turning to Richie again. “The same place as the last party, at eight. She’s not picking us up.” Richie nods, a devious smile stretching across his face. “What, Richie?” Eddie asks, looking skeptically at the smile.

“I’m gonna teach you how to skateboard.” Richie states. Eddie shakes his head, eyes widening. “No, you’re not. Don’t you know how dangerous skateboarding is? What if I fall off and break a bone or something?” Richie laughs, walking over to grab his skateboard where it’s leaning against the wall in the living room. “You’re not going to break a bone, Eds. I promise. Please trust me?” Eddie sighs, not being able to say no to Richie, and nods. “Fine, okay. Let’s do this, I guess.”

By the time he’s done with his sentence, Richie’s already putting his shoes back on. “C’mon, there’s a skatepark nearby. We’ll go there.” Eddie nods, following Richie out the door and making sure to lock it behind him.

And then the two are at the skatepark. There are a surprising amount of people there for it being four o’clock on Halloween, and Eddie feels very self conscious, but luckily Richie’s there, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Eddie feels like everyone’s staring at him, though rationally he knows nobody is, no one even glanced at him when the two men entered the skatepark.

Richie chooses a flat spot as far away from the other people as possible, pulling away from Eddie to place the skateboard down on the ground. Eddie stares at it nervously.

“Eds, no need to be nervous, okay? Trust me, I won’t let you get hurt.” Eddie nods, slowly walking forward and placing a foot on the board. He sort of knew how it worked, from watching Richie skate across the living room, despite how many times Eddie’s told him he’s going to scratch up the floors.

So Eddie knew to place his right foot on the front of the board, and to kick off with his other one. But he had only gotten one foot on the board before he got too nervous.

Richie was smiling at him. Not a smile that was making fun of him, more so a smile that was meant to comfort him, a smile telling him to take his time. 

Eddie shakily kicks off, just slightly. It’s such a small kick it barely takes him anywhere, but he still feels proud, knowing he actually got himself to kick off. Richie looks proud too, his smile a bit wider.

He walks over to Eddie, gently taking Eddie by the shoulders. “Here, want me to hold you at first? You can still kick off, I’ll just help make sure you don’t go flying off or anything.” Eddie nods. Richie moves away from Eddie to gently grab one of Eddie’s small hands. “Okay, you can do this. I believe in you.” Eddie nods, still feeling self conscious, like everyone’s watching him. But when he looks up, he comes to realize nobody’s looking at him, luckily.

He sighs and kicks off again, this time a bit harder. It takes him a bit farther, and Richie follows him, holding his hand until the skateboard slows to a stop.

They do that for about ten minutes until Eddie’s kicking off by himself, confidently enough to not need Richie’s help. And then Richie’s teaching him how to turn, which he starts shakily with, but quickly becomes good at as well.

After about an hour of turning, going down slopes, stopping, kicking off, everything successfully, Eddie’s smiling, and confidently skating around in circles. Small circles, around Richie, but circles as Richie praises him. 

“There you go, Eds. You got it. And you didn’t fall off or anything! I told you that you’d be fine!” Richie states, watching his boyfriend skate circles around him proudly. Eddie smiles at him, the skateboard slowing to a stop. As Eddie’s about to get off the skateboard so Richie can teach him some trick, someone walks up behind him and pushes him. He falls off the skateboard, hitting the ground forcefully. Richie tries to catch him, but unfortunately is a bit too slow.

Eddie groans, looking down at the previously intact knee of his jeans, the knee which is now ripped and exposing his scraped, bleeding skin. He looks up, to see someone who looks awfully familiar. Someone from Derry. 

It takes Eddie a minute to realize it’s Connor Bowers standing over him, an angry scowl on his face. Everyone else in the skatepark is now looking at them, watching whatever the hell is about to go down.

“Fucking fairies. Can’t escape them, can I? First they’re in fucking Maine, and now they’re here. Gonna just have to teach them a fucking lesson, straighten them up.” Connor states, tightening his hand into a fist. Richie pushes the skateboard that Eddie was previously standing on out of his way, blocking Connor from being able to hurt Eddie anymore.

“You’re not gonna fucking touch him, Connor.” He states. Eddie stands from the ground shakily, wincing at the sting in his knee. “Aw, look at the stupid faggot standing up for his faggot boyfriend.” Eddie winces again at the words being thrown at Richie. Connor goes to throw a punch at Richie, only for someone to grab him by the arm. It’s a girl, another person that looks awfully familiar. 

Elizabeth Parker. 

She’s changed a lot, Eddie’s realized, with her brown hair that’s no longer down to her chest, now rather only reaching her shoulders for one side, the other side completely buzzed off. She’s wearing a cropped Nirvana shirt too, and black ripped jeans with a pair of black converse. She looks different than that day at the party, though then again that day at the party she was drunk, and it was dark, and neither Richie nor Eddie were really paying attention to her.

But the hair is new, Eddie knows. At the party she had a full head of hair. And, on her skateboard, the one she’s still holding with one arm, if you really looked, you could see a rainbow sticker.

“Connor, back the fuck off before I beat your fucking ass.” She states. Connor rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you and I both know you’re just a weak faggot like these two over here.” Elizabeth drops her skateboard to the ground, balling her hand into a fist much like Connor just had. “Do you wanna fucking bet?” She asks, taking a step toward Connor. He nods. “Hell yeah I do.”

Then, in a split second, she’s swinging at Connor, and hitting him directly in the nose. Then Connor’s doubling back, hands clutching his nose. But Eddie knows from the sickening snap noise that echoed through the air of the skatepark, Connor’s nose is broken. 

There’s blood dripping from between Connor’s finger, hitting the ground and leaving crimson dots on the pale pavement. His eyes are wide, and his whole body seems to be shaking. Eddie’s sure it hurts, and Richie knows it hurts, from both of the times he happened to break his nose. The first being the same circumstances as Connor, being punched in the nose, and the second was because he had fallen off his skateboard and landing on his face pretty forcefully.

Everybody in the skatepark was still staring at the scene, at Connor holding his bloody nose, at Elizabeth rubbing her now sore knuckles, a victorious smirk on her face.

“What’d I tell you? I’m gonna beat the shit out of you if you don’t fucking leave now.” She states, still staring angrily at Connor, who looks almost like he wants to fight her, wants to take one of his shaking hands and throw a punch, but decides against it and begins to walk away. Everyone watches, one girl, a twelve year old girl with blonde hair and a shit ton of freckles, calls out the word “Coward!” to him with a laugh. He flips her off as he walks past her, but it really holds no power with how weak he looks and with how much his hand is shaking as he does it.

Once he’s gone, Elizabeth turns to the two curly haired men, the two just standing, still a bit in shock of what just happened. But she seems to be just slightly ticked off, not at all affected. 

“Eddie? You okay?” He nods, looking down at his injured knee. The knee with slight goosebumps on it because he’s a little cold from the breeze blowing through the area.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little scraped up, ‘s all.” He states, smiling shakily at her. He’s still a little on edge after that, still afraid he’s going to get attacked from behind again, like when they were kids and they thought it was over when one of the boys from the Bowers’ gang would walk away, only for them to get jumped a few minutes after by everyone else.

Richie glances down at Eddie’s knee, immediately reaching down and scooping Eddie up into his arms. Eddie tries to fight against Richie, only to quickly realize it’s not going to work and give up, going limp in his boyfriend’s arms. “Dickhead.” He mutters, though Richie can obviously tell he doesn’t mean it from the fond look on his face. “You love me.” Richie states, sighing as he glances down at his skateboard, still laying on the ground. Wordlessly, Elizabeth picks it up. “I do.” Eddie admits, leaning over and kissing Richie on the cheek. A smile spreads across Richie’s face before he’s leaning forward and giving Eddie a sloppy, wet kiss on the forehead that Eddie is quick to wipe away with a goosebump covered arm.

Most of the people in the skatepark are still staring at them, though they all have supportive looks on their faces. None of them look like the old people the two boys would pass on the street in Derry when they were teens, not even holding hands but still somehow looking like they were dating.

“You guys are cute together.” Someone calls out, quite a few agreements springing from the crowd right after. Eddie smiles as Richie begins to walk out of the skatepark behind Elizabeth, who’s now holding hers and Richie’s skateboard.

The three college kids walk through the town to the apartment building Richie and Eddie live in. “So, Elizabeth, I saw that sticker on the bottom of your skateboard. The rainbow flag one. Are you-” Eddie doesn’t even have to ask the full question before Elizabeth’s nodding. “Yeah, I’m a lesbian. Surprise! I literally didn’t know until like a week ago, don’t ask me how.” Richie laughs, despite being a bit confused. “But you were literally so hurt when I told you I didn’t actually like you and I was gay? I heard you crying behind the school.” Elizabeth shrugs. “I think I just convinced myself that it should hurt, and honestly it was very easy for me to convince myself you were a female, I mean you kind of have feminine features.” Richie sighs, turning to Eddie, who he’s still carrying in his arms.

“Bad news, Eds. You’re straight.” Eddie fake gags. “I refuse to accept it!” He states, laughing a bit. The other two quickly join him, laughing loudly. Laughs that echo through the square, bouncing off the buildings.

They soon get to the apartment building, and Elizabeth continues to follow them to their apartment, taking it upon herself to show herself around while Richie fixes up Eddie’s knee, despite Eddie complaining that he can do it himself and that Richie wasn’t even doing it correctly.

And then the three were sitting on the couch, watching some random show that came on as soon as Eddie turned the TV on. But they weren’t actually watching it, were too busy talking about their lives. Everything, or almost everything that had happened after the split.

“I’m actually going on a date with a girl tomorrow. Her name is Cassie.” Elizabeth states, mindlessly glancing at the TV. “Ohh, Cassie! Sounds cute!” Richie jokes. Elizabeth laughs and rolls her eyes. “You have a boyfriend. But you’re not wrong, okay? She’s very cute!” Elizabeth states, glancing over at Eddie, who’s fake pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. Richie just laughs looking over at Eddie, his heart feeling like it’s going to burst at how cute Eddie looks when he’s annoyed. He reaches over, quickly pulling Eddie onto his lap.

“So are you guys going to that stupid Halloween party tonight?” Elizabeth asks, looking over at the clock hanging in the living room. “Cuz if so we should probably leave, we only have thirty minutes to get there.” Richie shrugs, looking at Eddie, who’s watching the cheesy show on the TV right now.

“Eds, are we going to the party?” Eddie shakes his head, snuggling closer to Richie. “Nah.” He murmurs, yawning a little even though it’s only seven thirty. Skateboarding for an hour earlier really wore him out. 

“Well, I’m going. See you guys!” Elizabeth exclaims, standing from the couch and letting herself out of the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay another lgbt character because i can't handle most straight people, they're so basic and i don't know how to make someone straight. like, personality wise. anyway, here's a long chapter for you and as you can tell the losers reuniting is happening, slowly but surely. the lyrics at the beginning are from the song hands by balue. uhh also i’m like ninety percent sure the next chapter is going to be the last, but i’ll be back quickly with another it book, don’t worry!


	27. Lilies

_ November 7, 1995 _

“Hey, babe.” Richie greeted Eddie as soon as Eddie entered the apartment after his classes. He was stressed, it was clear on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes from staying up so late to study and waking up so early to get an hour or two more of studying done before his classes. He didn’t even get to rest during the weekends much anymore, due to the fact that his classes have been giving him so much work that every waking moment he’s in the library or in his and Richie’s bedroom studying.

“What, Rich? I don’t have a lot of time to talk, it’s Tuesday, one of my studying days.” Eddie mutters, slipping his shoes off next to the door. Richie nods. “Yeah, I know. But, uh, I needed to tell you, mom’s birthday is coming up, and I wanted to visit her grave. Give her some flowers or something.” Eddie looks up from his shoes to Richie, his tired face softening. “Did you want me to come?” Richie nods shyly. “If it’s possible.” Eddie walks into the kitchen, where they have a calendar hanging up that really only Eddie looks at. “What day?” 

“The eleventh.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I think I could. I’ll have to get my work for Friday, cuz I’m sure that’s the day we’re leaving.” Richie shrugs. “I thought we could leave on Thursday and come back Sunday cuz then we’d get a day to relax.” Eddie sighs. “I’ll see if I can miss Thursday too. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?” Richie nods, a smile stretching onto his face as he leans forward to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie groans at the name, involuntarily shouting “Don’t call me that!” At Richie as Richie begins to make his way to the front door. His shoes were already on when Eddie got home, just waiting for his boyfriend so he could speak to him and then he would leave.

“I’m gonna go hang with the others.” Richie states, beginning to unlock the door. “Who are ‘the others?’” Eddie asks. “Bev, Ben, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s girlfriend, Cassie.” Eddie nods. “Have fun!” He calls after Richie as the trashmouth slips out the door, closing it behind himself.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

_ November 10, 1995 _

Once the two men have stumbled out of the bus tiredly and into their hotel room, they don’t hesitate to flop onto the springy bed to sleep. Sleeping on the bus was difficult, and even when achieved, did not go on for more than an hour or two. So finally getting an actual bed to sleep in, the two were not going to pass up that opportunity and decided to take a quick nap before walking around town to find somewhere that sells flowers to buy for Maggie’s grave. Richie would feel bad if they didn’t get anything for her, though he wishes it could be something better than flowers, but it’s difficult trying to find gifts for a grave that isn’t flowers.

After their nap, the two quickly dress into something they haven’t been wearing on a bus for the past eight hours and during their three hour nap. For Richie it was yet another Hawaiian shirt, this one pink with multicolored flowers on it over a The Rolling Stones shirt and a pair of jeans, ripped at the knees of course. For Eddie, it was a blue polo shirt and a pair of jeans.

Then they were walking through Derry, shivering at the cold air because they forgot their jackets in the hotel room but were too lazy to go back to grab them. 

Suddenly, as they’re walking and talking about how little this town has changed, an awfully familiar voice is calling to them.

“Richie! Eddie! Hey, guys!” They turn to face a smiling Mike Hanlon, one that’s running at them with an arm raised in the air, an arm that’s waving at them. His other hand is holding someone else’s. But not just any someone else. Bill Denbrough, who’s smiling too.

“Mike? You’re still in this shit hole?” Richie asks as the two men start to get closer. Mike nods shyly. “Yeah, so is Bill.” Mike states, nudging Bill’s arm with his own. “Yeah, we can see. What’re you guys still doing here?” Eddie asks. Bill shrugs. “We could as you guys the same question.” He states, no stutter to be heard. “We’re here for mom’s birthday, we were gonna visit her.” Richie states. “Speaking of, know any good flower shops?” Eddie asks the two standing in front of him, more so Mike. He knows Mike would be more likely to know where it is than Bill. “Yeah, there’s one a few blocks from here, I’ll show you where it is, if you want.” Mike states, already starting to pull Bill in the direction of the flower shop. Richie and Eddie begin to follow.

“So you never told us why you two are still here.” Eddie states, just to try to start another conversation to clear the awkward silence that was enveloping the four. Mike shrugs. “We just haven’t left yet. We’re currently looking for places in Florida to move to, but we don’t have a lot of money. I work at the library and it doesn’t really get enough business to make a living off of, and Bill’s books aren’t getting a lot of traction yet because he’s a new writer.” Mike explains.

“Wait, Bill writes books?” Richie asks, causing Bill to nod. “Yeah, maybe you’d know if you actually knew how to read.” Richie laughs at Bill’s joke, a loud laugh that’s been exactly the same for as long as Eddie has known Richie. One that echoes through the square, bounces off buildings. One that everyone can hear, no matter where they are, because it’s just that loud. But one that sounds like music to Eddie’s ears despite that.

“Stan and Patty are actually here right now, they’re at the library where I live. Bill obviously lives there with me.” Mike explains to the two curly haired boys. “Stan’s here? Why?” Mike nods. “I called and invited him. Bev, Ben, and Elizabeth are on their way too. I called everyone except you two so we could hang out like old times because I knew you two would come for Maggie’s birthday.” Mike states. The four men slow to a stop in front of a run down but homey looking flower shop that Richie is sure used to say  _ Linda’s Flowers _ , though a few letters have fallen away, so it now says  _ Inda’s Flo  _ instead.

“Here we are. It’s a nice place.” Mike states, stepping forward and opening the door for the others. Richie is the first to enter, followed by Eddie, then Bill, and finally Mike.

It’s not that much cooler in the flower shop, though it’s noticeable that despite it being November they have yet to turn off their AC for the year. 

A woman, one with greying hair and kind looking grass green eyes, walks over to them slowly. She’s smiling, deepening the wrinkles next to her eyes. 

“How can I help you boys today?” She asks, glancing between the four boys as she’s unsure quite who to look directly at. 

“Uhm, do you have any lilies? Those were my mother’s favorite flower.” The woman nods, leading them over to some various bouquets of flowers on placed on one of the many shelves in the store. “These are the ones that have the most lilies.” She explains, gesturing to the rack of them. Richie nods, beginning to look through the flowers.

Eddie turns to the woman, shivering. There are goosebumps on his arms, so he’s obviously cold.

“Do you guys keep the AC on all year long?” He asks the woman, trying his best to keep eye contact while simultaneously looking for a name tag on her so he can call her by her name and not ‘the woman.’ He sighs internally when he doesn’t notice one, knowing he’s going to have to ask her.

She nods with that same smile still stretched on her face. “Yes, we do. I get a lot of hot flashes because I’m getting old so the AC helps.” She explains. “You know you could get sick, right? Like hypothermia or pneumonia or-“ Eddie begins to ramble on about health, quickly being cut off by Bill. “Eddie.” The hypochondriac turns to face Bill with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, you know I get on those rants and it’s hard to stop.” He apologizes. Bill waves him off, quickly growing bored of standing there and waiting on Richie. He grabs Mike’s hand and pulls him off to look at some flowers a few isles over.

“So you’re shopping for your mother?” The woman asks Eddie, who points over his shoulder at Richie. “His mother. She would be my mother-in-law, but-“ Richie’s the one to interrupt Eddie this time, turning from the rack with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “She died. And it’s not legal for same sex couples to get married.” Richie sighs out, quickly thrusting the flowers out at the old woman before she can kick them out for being gay like he’s so sure she’s going to do, despite how sweet she seems. 

“I want these.” He rushes out, now just trying to leave so he doesn’t get hate crimed. The woman seems undeterred by him being gay, and the smile doesn’t leave her face. She nods, taking the bouquet of lilies, daisies, and roses from him and beginning to walk over to the register. 

“Yes, I know they’re not allowed. I’ve never understood why, though. Why can’t people just love who they want? Why are there laws preventing them from doing just that?” She asks, pressing a few buttons on the register. Eddie hears Richie breathe out loudly in relief next to him, so he reaches down to squeeze his hand a few times to sooth him. 

“That’s be five twenty five honey.” The woman says, handing the flowers over to Eddie while Richie fishes in his pockets for his wallet to pay her. “I’m Amanda, by the way.” She adds. “I’m Eddie. This is Richie.” Eddie states, an awkward smile on his face. 

“Well, have a good day you two. I hope you’ll be able to get married one day.” Amanda shouts after them as they collect Mike and Bill and leave the shop.

The four men split up outside the doors, Richie and Eddie going one way to the graveyard, and Mike and Bill going to the library. 

Eddie’s breath hitches as soon as him and Richie approach Maggie’s tombstone. It’s small and plain, because it’s all Richie could afford, just a square shaped one on the ground. The engraving is simple, basic, reading  **Maggie Tozier, 1959-1993. Mother, Wife, Sister.**

And it had surprised Eddie, for a moment, to see that Maggie was only 34 when she died. But the surprise quickly fleeted, because ever since Eddie could remember, Richie would talk about how his mother was only seventeen when she had him because a drunken hookup with her boyfriend after prom.

Richie kneels down to place the flowers on her grave, quickly standing to look down at the grave. Eddie hears him sniffle a few times, knows he’s crying, but doesn’t say anything. Because he’s crying too. And Richue has every right to be upset, this is his mother for fucks sake.

It takes Eddie a moment to process through the cold of the air and the blur of tears in his eyes, a warm weight pressed against him. But as soon as he does and his brain processes it’s Richie, he’s wrapping his arms tightly around Richie’s waist, pulling him closer until the two are flush against each other, the only boundaries being their shirts.

“God I miss her so much Eds.” Richie murmurs into his boyfriend’s shoulder, where his tears are dampening his shirt. Eddie nods, raising an arm to run his fingers through Richie’s messy, cold hair. “I know, baby, I know.” He says, turning to press a kiss into Richie’s hair, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Because he’s never lost someone close to him. Sure, he had thought his dad was dead since he was five, but he was too young to really understand it or mourn him. And sure, he’s sure with all of his mother’s old health issues, she’s probably long gone by now, but he could care less about her.

He moves his hand back down to Richie’s waist, interlocking his cold fingers there. His face moves from Richie’s hair, because he’s sure if he doesn’t move it then he might suffocate right there. 

They stand like that for a while, until the cold gets to be too much for them and then they’re taking one last glance at Maggie’s grave before walking off to the hotel for a hot bath and a nap.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

_ November 11, 1995 _

Richie reaches out to open the door of the library in Derry for Eddie. Laugher floods out immediately, the familiar sound of Stan’s voice yelling something at Bev because of a crude joke she told, Ben’s quiet voice talking about a project he’s a part of in his architecture class to Mike. Bill’s stuttering voice talking to an unfamiliar feminine voice, a soft, quiet one. Elizabeth’s loud but comforting giggle, another girl’s laughter, a louder laugh. The laugh of Elizabeth’s girlfriend, Cassie. It’s the sound of friendship.

Eddie slips inside, Richie close behind. Stan’s closest to the door, so of course he’s the first to take notice of the two.

“Trashmouth, Eddie, it’s been a while.” He says, in his familiar, monotone voice. But Eddie knows he’s fighting a smile, it’s obvious. “Staniel the maniel! God, I missed you!” Richie announces in his booming voice. Before anyone can process it, Stan’s being picked up and spun around with Richie’s arms around his waist tightly. He’s pushing at the ravenette’s hands, squirming around and yelling to ‘Put me down before I kill you!’ 

And everyone’s laughing, laughing, laughing, and it’s just like old times, only with two new, feminine voices. The voice of a blonde Patty, and the voice of a brunette Cassie. 

But Eddie doesn’t care that there’s two additions now, nobody really does, because they feel like kids again. And they’re going to all day, and hopefully for years after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s the end! thank you for getting this far and following me through this book over the past month. sorry i didn’t include a song for this chapter, i just couldn’t really think of one. i’m sure i’ll add one when i do, though. until then this is the end of this book and another reddie book will be out soon, but first i gotta finish the two books i put on hold to write this one. i hope you enjoyed and i hope to see you at my next reddie book! bye!


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